


Princess of the Sky

by fairytaleslayer



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: But it's there, Clarke has a dragon, Clexa, Eragon AU, F/F, Lexa's an elf, Lots of liberties taken with the book, Slow Burn, and the language, dragon rider au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-17 11:09:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 67,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4664361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairytaleslayer/pseuds/fairytaleslayer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Riders disappeared over a century ago, and with them, their dragons. But Clarke is thrust into the middle of a political war she didn't know existed when she comes across a strange blue stone in the middle of the forest and bonds with the first dragon to hatch in a hundred years.<br/>After tragedy strikes, she's bent on revenge, but even with her mission, Clarke can't get the mysterious, imprisoned Elf woman she sees in her dreams out of her mind. Clarke knows everything depends on rescuing her, she just doesn't know why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing this for about a month, and I have some chapters in holding, but as I am starting grad school next week, updates may be slow after I run out of those. But I love this AU, and am enjoying writing it so much.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before we get started, just want to put it out there that I am not Christopher Paolini and do not own the Inheritance Cycle.

Lexa’s eyes took in her surroundings carefully as she galloped through the forest. Tris was a few lengths in front of her, Costia the same distance behind. She checked the object in her bag, making sure it hadn’t been jostled during her ride. She was relieved when the bright blue egg remained unharmed.

Costia spoke quickly to Tris, and they switched places in their lineup. Lexa glanced down at the egg again. Something felt wrong with the trees. The woods were too quiet, making her uneasy.

“Faster, Costia,” she urged, gripping her thin sword. The absence of any animal noises around them told her that something was wrong.

Costia, obeyed, readying her spear for any trouble. Then the wind changed.

The smell of Urgals quickly filled Lexa’s nose, and the horses shied in fear. Costia yelled a warning just as a black arrow flew from the trees and embedded itself in her chest. She toppled from her horse without another sound. A hail of arrows followed, raining down on the two remaining elves. They wheeled their horses to sprint the other way, but two caught Tris in the back and she, too, fell from her horse.

Lexa saw a figure leap out from behind a rock formation a hundred paces to her left, and she chanced a look. Her heart dropped. A Shade.

He shouted a word, and a bolt of red shot from his hand straight for her, hitting her mount. Her horse screamed in pain before falling.

Lexa gathered herself and leapt from the animal’s back, landing lightly on her feet. She looked back for her companions, letting out a cry of anguish when she saw Costia unmoving on the ground, an arrow through her heart. But she looked down at her bag, knowing the egg was more important. She cursed the Shade and ran further into the forest.

The Urgals gave chase, and she stopped to dispatch a few of them with her sword, keeping ahold of the egg with one hand at all times. She was the Commander of the Elven armies. The egg would not be lost to enemy hands while she yet lived. Lexa ran from the remaining Urgals. She could outpace the beasts – it was the Shade she had to worry about. Not even she could overpower one of those monsters.

As if her thoughts had summoned it, fire sprang up a small distance to her right. Lexa veered away from it, but another section of the forest began to burn in front of her. Bit by bit, she became surrounded by fire. Lexa had no choice but to turn back the way she had come, running for a granite rock pile that would not burn easily.

It soon became apparent that that had been the wrong decision. The Shade leapt from the top of the formation, landing easily in front of her. Lexa skidded to a stop and spun around, only to be met by the last five Urgals, hemming her in and blocking all escape routes.

Lexa flung her head side to side, trying to find a way out, but none were apparent. She would not die with her back to the enemy. Lexa drew herself to her full height to stare disdainfully at the red haired devil in front of her, not allowing him to see her terror. Lexa would readily give her life for this cause, but she did not want to die. Not yet. She gripped her pouch tightly.

The Shade grinned evilly. “Get her,” he ordered.

Lexa knew there was only one thing left for her to do. As the Urgals closed in, she reached into her bag to pull out the blue egg. She dropped the pouch and raised the egg above her head with both hands, her lips forming the necessary words frantically. She didn’t have much time left.

“Garjzla!” the Shade spat out the same spell that had killed her horse, and a red bolt shot from his hands.

Lexa finished her task and only had a split second of relief that the egg would be safe before the bolt of light hit her. Agony rushed through her.

 _Jake has it_ , was Lexa’s last thought before the pain swamped her and she knew no more.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke makes an interesting discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick update because the Prologue is so short and I wanted to give you something a little more. That and I'm just way too excited about this fic.

Clarke settled deeper into the branch of the tree she was currently in, easing the ache in her back. Her blonde hair blew in her face, and she impatiently pushed it behind her ears. She should have braided it when she got up, but she had been too eager to find the perfect spot to sketch the waterfall she’d camped by the night before. She had to leave to check her trap line soon and she wanted to finish this drawing first. Her cousin Octavia would love it.

She should have brought her bow with her, just in case she met up with any animals larger than a rabbit or a fox, but most of them had moved down into the valley for the colder season already. Her aunt had wanted Clarke to take her bow for protection, but Clarke had promised to be careful and her aunt had reluctantly let her go.

Besides, Clarke wasn’t afraid of the Spine. The people in her town watched the mountain range with suspicion, never daring to venture in. Clarke was the only one brave or stupid enough to walk its trails, but she had never run into trouble before. She enjoyed its wildness and how it was untouched by man. She never tired of drawing its wonders.

An hour later, Clarke had finished her sketch and was just working up the willpower to leave her tree when an explosion shattered the calm of the early morning.

Clarke flinched away from the noise, forgetting that she was ten feet up a tree. She yelled in shock as she dropped to the ground, landing painfully on her shoulder. She groaned as she rolled over, getting her bearings back.

She lay in a circle of burned vegetation at least fifteen feet in diameter. Everything within the circle was burnt to a crisp, the grass around it flattened by the force of the explosion. Many of the trees nearby, including the one she had been sitting in, had lost the needles on their lower branches.

Cursing quietly to herself, Clarke crawled over to the small crater that had been blasted into the ground, peeking carefully over the edge. In the center lay a bright blue stone. She drew her hunting knife and watched it for a few minutes. When it didn’t move, Clarke slid down into the crater. She poked the stone with her knife and jumped backward, wary. It still gave no sign of being dangerous, so she cautiously picked it up to study it.

Clarke’s artistic eye immediately spotted the white spider web lines spreading through the stone like cracks, but the rock was perfectly smooth and without a single break anywhere. It was about a foot long, a precise oval shape, and more detailed than any polished stone she’d ever seen.

But who had sent it? Clarke was cautious of magic, brought up by a woman who constantly warned her of the dangers magic raised. Only magic could have sent the stone here, but why had it landed ten feet below Clarke? Was she the intended recipient, or had it been an accident? Was the stone safe, and if so, what was Clarke supposed to do with it?

Clarke almost put the stone back where she found it but hesitated. It was too interesting and new. Eventually, she shrugged, and placed the stone into her pack. The rabbits and other animals she had trapped would not be enough to feed her family all winter, and the stone may bring some coin to buy food. The artist in her didn’t want to part with the pretty stone, but her family was more important.

She began the three day journey home, stopping to collect her traps and their takings in the cache she’d stashed them in the night before along the way. The stone was a comforting weight in her pack as she walked. Clarke followed the animal trails down the mountain, confident in her way despite all the double backs and winding turns. She knew these mountains well. She respected the wildness of the mountain range without fearing it, and in turn, it had never given her cause to be afraid while she was within its borders.

The Spine was the only place in all of Alagaesia King Thelonious could not claim ownership of. Everything else he ruled with a choking grip, but the Spine was too wild even for him. There was a rumor that it had once swallowed an entire army, never to be seen again. Clarke believed it. The Spine could be unforgiving. But she had spent the better part of her seventeen years wandering in and out of its clutches. The ancient forest called to her artistic side, and the mountains beckoned her sense of adventure.

Clarke stopped to camp by the river as the sun began to set, staying up to watch the moon rise before wrapping herself in her bedroll. Frost covered the ground when she woke the next morning, and there was a new nip in the air that her fire couldn’t quite dispel. Winter was coming fast.

Clarke picked up her pace, eager to be home. That day and the next were progressively colder, but finally Clarke reached Igualda Falls, giving her her first sight of Palancar Valley in nearly a week. Arkhall was just a few miles away. She would reach it by evening. Clarke sighed and prepared herself for her least favorite part of the journey: the steep descent from the top of the falls. She gritted her teeth and began, not relaxing until she was at the bottom an hour later, only then breathing a sigh of relief.

She began the final trek, already making plans. She would take the stone to the butcher. Quint was not her favorite person – always looking for a way to shortchange her or humiliate her and her family, but he was the only person selling meat in town, so Clarke had little choice but to put up with him and ignore his jibes.

The shop was slightly warmer than the cold air outside, but still cool enough to keep the meat from spoiling. Clarke wrinkled her nose. She’d always hated the smell of raw meat. Even if the shop was unnaturally clean, the scent had permeated the walls and left Clarke with a headache.

Quint pushed his way through the door leading to the store room, pausing when he saw he had a customer. He sneered when he saw it was Clarke. “What, the mighty hunter returns without her prize?” he gloated.

“Shut up, Quint, it wasn’t that kind of hunt,” Clarke growled back. “Are you going to sell me anything or not?”

“Depends on if you’ve got coin or not, which, last I checked, your family never had much of.”

Clarke ignored him and pulled out the stone from her pack. “I have this to trade instead,” she told him, setting it carefully on the counter.

Despite himself, Quint looked interested, and came closer to inspect the stone. “Where did you get it?” he asked, looking it over.

“I found it,” Clarke replied, avoiding where exactly she had found it.

“Stole it, probably,” Quint grunted.

“I’m not a thief,” Clarke said sharply. “Will you take it or not? I want to get home before midnight.”

“Seeing as you ‘found’ it, and don’t know its value, I’ll give you three crowns for it,” Quint offered the ridiculously low price.

“Someone took the time to shape it and polish it, it’s worth at least ten times that!” Clarke protested immediately.

“It means nothing to me, girl, take it or leave it. It’s no skin off my back.”

Clarke glared at him, knowing she didn’t have a choice. “Fine,” she agreed sullenly.

“Good choice. I’ll get the meat. Seeing as you _didn’t_ steal it, where’d you find it?”

“Two days ago, up in the Spine by the –”

“Get out!” Quint snapped, pushing the stone away and crossing the room, putting as much distance between himself and Clarke as possible.

“Why?” Clarke asked, checking to make sure the stone was unharmed, oddly protective of it. She put her arms around it, as if to keep it from Quint’s wrath.

“The Spine is evil, girl,” Quint spat. “I won’t have my shop tainted by its ill luck. Get that sorcerer’s stone and yourself out of here!”

“You can’t refuse my business!” Clarke protested.

“Yes, I damn well can. Now leave unless you’ve got real coin and not that cursed stone, you _branwada_ girl!” Quint yelled the insult, brandishing a cleaver.

Clarke held her ground. Octavia and her aunt needed food for the winter. She wouldn’t leave empty-handed. Just then, the door slammed open and Lincoln, the smith’s son, came in closely followed by Finn, Quint’s son.

“What’s going on here, Quint?” Lincoln asked. Normally he was soft spoken and fairly gentle despite his muscles from the forge, but now he looked angry and like he could cause some damage.

“Father, just give Clarke the meat. She’s offered a trade and you accepted,” Finn added.

“You, don’t interfere!” Quint snarled at his son. Finn immediately backed down, cowed. “And why are you here, smith?” he asked Lincoln angrily.

“To see why you were making screeching noises yet again,” the nineteen year old replied dryly. “Why do you not want to trade with Clarke?”

“She’s brought back some cursed stone from the Spine and I will have nothing to do with it!” Quint snapped. “It’s my business. I don’t have to trade with her.”

“No, but you do have to trade with my father. So, here is your coin. Give me the meat,” Lincoln ordered, dropping money on the counter and fixing Quint with a glare.

Quint slunk off to the store room, beaten. Finn followed, giving Clarke an apologetic look. Quint was back a few minutes later, slamming the required meat down on the counter and then storming out of the shop. Clarke rushed to put the meat into her pack, wrapping the stone in a cloth to carry in her arms, and followed Lincoln out of the butcher’s.

“Thank you for helping me out, Linc, but my aunt won’t stand for charity,” Clarke told her friend once they were safely outside.

Lincoln grinned. “Just tell her it was an early name day present for Octavia.”

Clarke chuckled. “When will you just buck up and start courting her?” she asked. “You know Octavia’s waiting for it and my aunt certainly wouldn’t turn you down.”

“You think so?” Lincoln asked nervously.

“Octavia does _not_ stop talking about you. Ever,” Clarke reassured him. “Just go for it.”

Lincoln nodded resolutely. “Okay. Octavia’s name day – I’ll ask her mother for permission.”

Clarke clapped him on the shoulder. “I knew you had it in you,” she praised him.

“Oh,” Lincoln remembered. “Tell Octavia that my father accepted her request of apprenticeship with him. She can start right away and we have an extra bedroom she can stay in so she doesn’t have to make the walk every day. My mother can’t wait to have another girl in the house.”

Clarke grinned. “She’ll be so excited, Linc. I’ll make sure to tell her first thing. She’ll want to come find you tomorrow if we have time after the harvest.”

“Do you need any help with that?” Lincoln asked.

She shook her head. “We always manage just fine, but thanks. I’ll see you when the traders come in,” Clarke said in farewell, splitting off and heading for the outskirts of town. She was almost there when a voice startled her.

“Clarke!” it hissed.

“Who’s there?” she called warily.

Finn stepped out of the shadows. “I just wanted to apologize for the way my father treated you back in the shop,” he said, ashamed.

Clarke shook her head. “It wasn’t your fault, Finn. That’s just who Quint is,” she dismissed. Finn nodded, but dawdled, not leaving. “Was there something else you wanted?” she asked, a bit exasperated. She was tired and wanted to go home and see her family.

“I was wondering if – maybe – next week – you wanted to meet me somewhere in town and we could spend the afternoon together,” Finn said awkwardly.

“In what way?” Clarke asked, confused.

“We could do anything. Look at the shops, just walk,” Finn offered.

_He’s trying to court me,_ Clarke realized uncomfortably. “Um, Finn – thanks for the offer, but – my family is going to be really busy with the harvest and preparing for winter and I don’t think there’s going to be time for me to leave the farm until the traders come,” she tried to let him down gently, clutching the stone for support.

“Oh,” Finn said, dejected. “Maybe then?”

“Maybe,” Clarke tried not to make any promises. She wasn’t interested in being courted by Finn – or anyone else in town. Finn was kind where his father wasn’t, but the last thing Clarke was looking for at the moment was romance. She had too many things to worry about back home. And Clarke would never have Quint for a father in law. That would cause a blood feud. “But listen, I have to get home. It’s going to be dark before I get there, and I was supposed to be back already.” She fidgeted, wanting to get out of there.

Finn nodded. “Alright. I’ll see you around town, then.”

“Yeah.” Clarke left it at that, walking away from him without another word.

* * *

“Clarke!”

Clarke grinned, waiting for Octavia to come greet her. The slightly younger girl was sprinting toward her cousin and engulfed Clarke in a hug once she reached the blonde. Clarke returned it with one arm, keeping a firm hold on the stone in her other arm.

“Octavia, it’s only been a week,” she said, laughing. “Let go before you choke me!”

The brunette slowly released her, her face still excited. “What, I can’t miss my cousin?” she asked cheekily.

“Come on, let’s go see Aunt Aurora before she worries herself to death,” Clarke said, leading Octavia back to the house.

Octavia’s mother greeted the two at the door, giving Clarke a brief hug. “Welcome home, niece. Were you successful?”

Clarke set her bag on the table, dumping its contents. “I trapped enough for a month. The rest is from Quint’s.”

“You bought meat?” Aurora asked incredulously.

“No,” Clarke fidgeted. “Octavia, can you go put my stuff in my room?” she asked suddenly, shoving it at her cousin.

“Why?”

“Please.”

Octavia sighed. “Fine, but I want to hear about your trip later.”

“Explain,” Aurora demanded once Octavia was gone.

Clarke hesitated. “Lincoln bought it,” she admitted.

“The smith’s son? I told you we will not accept charity!” Aurora exclaimed.

“No, no, it’s not like that, it wasn’t charity,” Clarke quickly denied. “Lincoln said it was a name day present for Octavia,” she explained quietly. “He’s going to ask you permission to court her. This was just his first step. Please accept it, or you’ll embarrass him.”

Aurora eyed her suspiciously. “You are sure?”

Clarke nodded. “Yes. He said he would ask you on her name day next week.”

Her aunt was quiet a few more moments before nodding resolutely. “Then it would be rude to refuse the gift, if Lincoln is serious about his courtship. Will Octavia welcome him?”

“Yeah. She talks about him all the time. She’ll love it.”

“Then he will have my permission,” Aurora decided. “I will make sure to have Octavia thank him for the generous gift.” She looked over at her niece, her eyes softening slightly. “It is good that you have returned to us safe and sound,” Aurora told her. “You were missed.”

Clarke smiled, giving her aunt a quick embrace. “I’m glad to be back.”

“Now go. Speak with your cousin. She saved up much to tell you while you were away.”

“I’m sure she did,” Clarke agreed with a good natured groan. She carefully lifted the stone and went to find Octavia.

* * *

“Did you see Lincoln while you were in Arkhall? Did you talk to him?” Octavia’s quick words greeted Clarke the moment she entered her bedroom.

Clarke grinned. “Yes, I saw your lover boy while I was in Arkhall, and yes I talked to him,” she teased. Octavia blushed. “He told me to tell you that his father accepted your request for apprenticeship and you can work out the details when you see Lincoln on your name day.”

Octavia yipped in glee. “He said yes? That’s amazing I didn’t think he would,” she said excitedly. “And Lincoln’s coming for my name day?”

“He said something about maybe stopping by,” Clarke replied vaguely. She wanted the proposal to be a surprise.

The brunette clapped her hands, unable to contain herself. Clarke watched her, glad that her cousin was getting what she wanted. Their life wasn’t always easy, and surviving was often downright difficult, but Clarke was happy that at least this one thing would go right for Octavia.

* * *

The next few days Clarke and her family kept busy with trying to finish the fall harvest before the frost set in for the winter. Each morning when she got up, Clarke touched the stone she’d displayed on her shelf to make sure it was still there. It was always warm to the touch, even in the cool of the morning before the sun rose. Just another oddity that Clarke could not explain. Her aunt had decided they would sell it when the traders came to town, but Clarke found that she didn’t want to give the stone up anymore. She had grown attached to it. However, her family came first, and they could use the money.

An early blizzard made Aurora worried that the traders would be able to enter the valley, but a week later, Clarke came sprinting back to the house, yelling that the wagons had come. That night was spent preparing their excess harvest and other goods to trade for items they couldn’t grow or gather.

The next morning, Clarke carefully wrapped the blue stone in a large cloth and held it in her lap while Aurora drove their wagon to Arkhall, Octavia walking behind. As they neared the village, Clarke’s grip on the stone grew tighter, pulling it into herself. They were getting too close to the time where she would have to part with the stone, and Clarke was dreading it.

“If the trader doesn’t offer enough, I don’t want to sell the stone,” she told her aunt. “I like it.” It was a poor excuse, but Clarke couldn’t explain her attachment to the blue rock in a way that made sense.

“It’s worthless to us, Clarke,” her aunt replied. “It’s best to be rid of it.”

Clarke wanted to protest, but she held her tongue. Her aunt was right. There was no use arguing. She followed her aunt when they reached Arkhall, Octavia wandering off to find Lincoln, no doubt. Aurora said a few quiet words to Jasper, a trader who dealt in rare items, and beckoned for Clarke to follow them to his tent.

Clarke eyed the rest of the traders as they walked to their encampment. Everyone was much quieter than usual – the children kept close to their parents, the adults carried more weapons than Clarke had ever seen. Something had frightened them.

Jasper led the pair to his tent on the outskirts of town, ushering them inside. “Now, what does the little lady have to show me?” he asked curiously.

The blonde hesitated before unwrapping her stone for Jasper to see. His eyes lit up in excitement at seeing something new, and he immediately reached for it before pausing. “May I?” he asked, and Clarke reluctantly handed it over.

Jasper inspected her stone with care, turning it over in his hands and pulling out some instruments. “Do you know what this is worth?” he finally asked.

“No,” Clarke admitted. “I found it in the Spine.”

The trader sighed. “Unfortunately, neither do I. It is certainly an unusual piece. Tell me, what do you know of its properties?”

“Uh, well, I think the white and blue are both the same material, because there aren’t any cracks. I think it’s all one piece of maybe a larger whole?” Clarke tried. “And it might be hollow: it’s lighter than it should be.”

“You are right on at least two counts,” Jasper agreed. “Here I can show you.” He took out a knife and tapped the flat of it against the stone. Clarke let out a noise of protest and reached for it, but stopped when a pure note filled the room before fading out. Jasper tilted her stone to show the teen that it was unharmed. “Don’t worry about me damaging it. It’s harder than any rock I’ve ever seen, possibly even stronger than diamond. I couldn’t hurt it even if I took a mallet to it.”

“Will you take it?” Aurora asked.

Jasper shook his head regretfully. “It’s a beautiful piece, and obviously worth a lot, but only as a curiosity. And curiosities don’t sell well these days. I have no guarantee that someone would want it. Maybe next year things will be better, and I can take it off your hands then.”

Clarke snatched her stone back eagerly, but Jasper leaned in, not quite done. “Do you know why we were late this year?” he asked.

Aurora shook her head.

“There’s evil afoot in Alagaesia. Urgals on the loose, the Varden increasing their attacks. Thelonious is forcibly recruiting citizens from towns to combat those monsters. But that’s not all – there are whispers of people disappearing. Not just in ones and twos, but by the dozens from larger cities. No one knows where they are taken to, but there are rumors that they come back monsters worse than Urgals. People call them Reapers.”

Aurora scoffed. “Now you’re feeding us tales. We’ve had no such trouble. Folk disappearing.”

“You’re isolated. It’s unsurprising you’ve escaped notice so far, and count yourself lucky. But if you’re finding stones such as that in the Spine, then strange things are coming to Arkhall as well.”

With that vague warning, Jasper ushered them out.

* * *

Clarke absentmindedly stroked her stone as she wandered through the traders’ tents. Nothing really caught her interest, and she was just trying to find Octavia so she could tell her Aurora would be ready to go back in another hour or so.

The sound of raised voices caught her attention. Two traders were telling tales in the tavern, but it didn’t look like they were being met with cheers from the villagers. In fact, the townspeople looked furious. It seemed a fight may break out at any moment, so Clarke steered clear, instead going around to the back.

There, she spotted Octavia and Lincoln in a back alley, sharing a kiss. She grinned. Lincoln finally got his act together, apparently. She cleared her throat, and the pair jumped apart, startled.

“Clarke!” Octavia reprimanded.

The blonde chuckled. “Don’t mind me. By all means, continue.”

Lincoln grimaced, looking embarrassed. He whispered into Octavia’s ear, causing her to nod in reply. He gave her a quick kiss to the cheek, then exited the alley with a “Good evening, Clarke.”

“Evening, Linc,” she responded, still grinning.

Once he was gone, Octavia groaned and came over to punch her shoulder. “Did you really have to do that?” she complained.

“Just protecting your honor, cousin,” Clarke teased. “Now come on. The storytellers are about to start.”

Jake, Arkhall’s very own storyteller, was just standing up to begin when Clarke and Octavia arrived. Clarke listened with rapt attention as he spoke of the rise and fall of the Dragon Riders and how they’d betrayed by one of their own, Thelonious, and how he had come to be king of Alagaesia. She’d never heard the story before.

When he was done, Jake left without another word, leaving the crowd murmuring amongst themselves nervously. Clarke thought she saw Jake crying before she lost sight of him. He made the Dragon Riders sound so real and amazing. Like he’d been there with them and seen what they saw. Clarke thought she could see the dragons in the sky herself.

“Consider yourselves fortunate for hearing that tale,” Aurora said from behind Clarke and Octavia. “I’ve only heard it twice before myself, and if the Empire knew Jake had told it, he would not live through the night.”

* * *

That night when they returned home, Aurora gave Clarke leave to do with her stone as she pleased, since it was no longer worth anything to them. Clarke excitedly took it back to her room. As she crawled into bed, she resisted the urge to take it with her, instead reaching out to run her hands over its smooth surface from where it rested on the shelf.

Curious, she got out of bed and grabbed her art kit. She took out a paintbrush and tapped the stone with the wooden end. A musical note rang out, just as it had in Jasper’s tent. The knife she used to sharpen her pencils and charcoal produced the same result, but clearer. She eyed her stone. If it was hollow, there might be something inside. But she couldn’t get into it.

Frustrated, Clarke put her stone back onto the shelf and returned to bed. Just before she fell asleep, she thought she heard a squeak coming from somewhere. She reminded herself to check for rats in the morning and knew no more.

* * *

Clarke woke suddenly, forced into awareness. Confused and uneasy, she pulled her hunting knife out from under her pillow and glanced around her silent room. Nothing seemed to be wrong. Shrugging, she closed her eyes.

A squeak ended the silence, and Clarke shot to a sitting position. That was too loud to be a rat. She checked under her bed and around her room anyways. Nothing.

Another squeak, and Clarke’s eyes landed on her stone, sitting innocuously on the shelf. It was just sitting there, but she glared at it, positive that that was where the noise was coming from. Sure enough, a particularly loud squeak emitted from it, and it fell silent once more.

_I guess that answers the question of if there’s something inside of it_ , Clarke thought, still keeping a firm grasp on her knife. The stone could be some kind of magical trap.

Then the stone started rocking. Clarke forgot her caution when it rolled itself off of the shelf, rushing forward to catch it. A crack appeared in the stone, and Clarke hurriedly put it in the middle of her bed and backed away, fearful. More cracks appeared, the stone still rocking insistently.

Suddenly, a piece of the stone tipped up and fell. Clarke stared as what appeared to be a tiny head poked its way out of the hole that had been made. Soon enough, other pieces had been pushed away, and a small creature freed itself from the small confines. The baby immediately skittered into the moonlight sifting through the window and stopped to lick its way free of the bits of membrane still covering it.

Clarke could do nothing but stare at it, fascinated. Currently sitting on her bed, straight out of a fairytale, was a dragon.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything goes to hell in a handbasket

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a sort of mini celebration/denial of starting school tomorrow morning, I am posting Chapter 2

Clarke stared at the dragon in awe. It was a deep sapphire blue, the exact same color as her stone. _Egg,_ the teen corrected herself. The white of the veins of the egg matched the white of the dragon’s claws. Clarke couldn’t tear her eyes away.

Meanwhile, the dragon finished cleaning itself and stretched out its wings. Clarke saw that they appeared to be membranous, like a bat’s, rather than feathered like birds. Spines lined the creature’s neck all the way to its shoulders, where a hollow made a kind of depression. Even its wings had spines.

While Clarke had been looking, the dragon had been completing its own inspection. Now, it began walking semi-unsteadily toward the blonde. Clarke wanted to back away but she held herself still, nervous. The dragon stopped every few seconds to cast its gaze around the room, looking for danger, before continuing on its path to Clarke. The teen remained where she was, not wanting to startle the dragon. It might be small, but it looked like it could cause some serious damage with its claws and teeth.

Eventually, the dragon got within a foot of Clarke. Fascinated, the teen reached out slowly with her left hand. The dragon eyed her hand for a moment before nudging its nose into the palm.

Clarke didn’t even get a moment to revel in being the first person besides King Thelonious to touch a dragon in over a century before searing pain rushed through her. With a stifled cry, Clarke fell backwards, clutching her hand. Startled, the dragon leaped back. It squeaked in alarm, but Clarke didn’t notice. She was paralyzed, the pain all consuming. It spread from her arm to the rest of her body. She thought she heard the sound of metal hitting metal, then a scream of rage filled her ears.

Clarke was unaware of anything but the pain for what seemed like hours. Finally, feeling trickled back into her body, ending with the palm that had touched the dragon. Her body was shivering uncontrollably, but it was working again at least. She looked around for the dragon and found it curled against her side, its body warming her through her shirt. Clarke thought she could feel the same kind of warmth in her mind, a tendril of thought tinged with concern that didn’t belong to her.

She ignored the foreign thought for the moment. Clarke focused back on the dragon beside her. It lifted its head, sniffing curiously. Clarke reached out her hand again, but jerked it back when it itched and tingled. Where plain skin had been, now the middle of her palm contained a diffuse, vaguely glowing white oval. Clarke rubbed at it, but it didn’t come off. Something brushed against her thoughts again. Clarke eyed the dragon suspiciously, and it lifted its head to look at her, its soulful eyes unblinking in the moonlight.

Working up her courage, Clarke reached out and rubbed the dragon’s head. She was relieved when she was met with nothing but the warmth of the dragon’s scales. The baby dragon nuzzled into her hand, letting out a small noise of seeming content. The feeling also resonated in Clarke’s mind. Clarke moved her hand down to run it across the dragonet’s still damp wings, awed at feel. They were like parchment.

The feeling in Clarke’s mind changed from vaguely happy to hungry. She looked down to see the dragon staring at her almost hopefully. “Are you hungry?” she whispered. The notion of hunger continued to spread through her mind, increasing in its voracity. _Does it eat normal stuff?_ Clarke wondered. It was just a baby.

The dragon squeaked and Clarke sighed. She picked up the dragon carefully and set it on her bed. It immediately snuggled into her pillow. “Stay there,” she warned it quietly. “I’ll be right back.”

Clarke snuck out of her room and grabbed a couple strips of dried rabbit for the dragon. She returned to her room as quickly as she could. The dragon welcomed her back with a little wail of hunger. “Shh, shh,” she urged it, rushing to her bed. The baby crawled into her lap as she tore a piece of meat into little bits. The dragon snatched a piece from her fingers, swallowing it almost whole. “Hey, careful,” Clarke reprimanded it, offering it another bit of meat. The dragon polished off the rest in record time before settling down on Clarke’s pillow, its stomach comfortably full.

The blonde carefully lay down next to it, stroking down its back. The dragon hummed in satisfaction, nudging Clarke’s hair as its tail wound around the bedpost. “What am I going to do with you?” Clarke whispered. The baby probably wouldn’t be able to survive on its own. Not yet, at least. And if the Empire discovered it, both the dragon and Clarke – along with her family – would be killed without mercy. The idea of the dragon coming to harm repulsed Clarke. But it couldn’t stay here. Her aunt would never allow a _dragon_ to stay in their house.

Maybe she could take it into the forest? At this point, Clarke raising the dragon wasn’t even a question. She felt protective of it, and the strange attachment she’d had to the egg had immediately transferred over to the dragon. If she kept it, she could potentially become a Rider. But that was its own dilemma. Either she would have to keep the dragon a secret her entire life, or she would have to join Thelonious if they were discovered. There was only one viable option, and that was keep their secret. Arkhall was fairly isolated, and the townspeople held no love for the Empire. Maybe she could do it.

But first she had to get the dragon out of the house. When it had grown too big to get rid of, then maybe Clarke would introduce it to Aurora and Octavia. Feeding it would be a problem for a while until it could hunt for itself. But Clarke could do some hunting. Winter would be difficult, but she could manage it. Would it be able to survive a winter outside? She could tear up some of her old clothes, make a nest for it. Clarke fell asleep making plans for how to keep the dragon happy and comfortable during the cold months.

When Clarke woke at dawn, the first thing she saw was her new dragon perched on her bedpost, watching the sun rise peacefully. When it saw that she was awake, it hummed happily and moved to curl into her chest. Clarke scratched its head absentmindedly for a few minutes. Its blue scales were even more beautiful in the morning light.

After a while, Clarke picked up the dragon and silently crept out of her room, grabbing some meat and rags on her way out the door. She thought about grabbing some leather straps to secure the dragon, but the thought of tying it up made her feel sick. She would just have to hope the dragon stayed put while she wasn’t around.

The dragon watched its surroundings with interest while Clarke trekked into the forest. She found a suitable tree and set the dragon down to build a makeshift shelter on a couple of the lower branches, stuffing it full of the rags. The dragonet prowled around while she did so, never straying far from Clarke’s side. Lastly, Clarke spread the meat on the floor of the hut and lifted the dragon into its new home. “Here you go, little one,” she cooed, letting it wriggle inside. “You’ll be safe as long as you stay in here.”

The dragon inspected each corner before snapping up a piece of meat and gulping it down. Clarke smiled. “That’s is. Just stay here,” she repeated. The baby dragon blinked up at her, and Clarke wondered if it understood her. The stories never mentioned how dragon and Rider communicated. Did they talk to each other? Was that possible? Clarke reached into her mind, searching for the consciousness she assumed was the dragon’s. She found it easily. It was cavernous, huge, and felt like the wide open skies. _Stay here,_ she told it silently. _Stay here._

The dragon stared at her, and Clarke thought she felt something like comprehension coming from it before the feeling slipped away. She gave it one last good rub down before sprinting back home, slipping into the house silently and heading back to her room to wait for Aurora and Octavia to wake up.

* * *

“Did you hear any weird noises last night?” Octavia asked over breakfast.

Clarke froze. “Um, no. Why?” she asked carefully.

Octavia shrugged. “I just heard noises last night and I thought I heard you yell once.”

“Oh.” Clarke thought quickly. “Now that you mention it, I did have a strange dream. It was about dragons. Must have been Jake’s story,” she lied. “When I woke up my bow was on the floor. I must have thrashed in my sleep.”

Octavia nodded. “You didn’t shoot yourself did you?” she teased.

Clarke laughed. “No, I’m good,” she promised. Satisfied, Octavia let it go, much to Clarke’s relief. She hated lying to her cousin who was also her best friend, but she wasn’t ready to tell anyone about the dragon.

She hurried through her chores that day, grabbing her sketchbook in the middle of the afternoon and telling her aunt that she was going to go draw and she’d be back for supper. As soon as she was out of sight, Clarke ran for the tree, afraid that the dragon would have gotten into some kind of trouble while she was gone.

To her relief, the dragon was right where she’d left it. It poked its head out when it heard Clarke coming, gliding down from its perch and leaping to greet her. Clarke caught it in her arms, laughing as it nuzzled into her chest. The baby appeared unharmed, but it seemed frightened, going so far as to stick its head into her jacket. Clarke rubbed it comfortingly. After a few minutes, the dragon was brave enough to pull its head out, sniffing Clarke curiously.

Clarke kept it in her arms as she checked over the hut she’d built. It had stood up well, and the feathers littering the floor told Clarke that the dragon could provide at least some of its diet on its own. That was good news. She couldn’t keep taking from her family’s stores. She was glad that she hadn’t tied the dragon down. It could have choked itself trying to hunt, and it had stayed put. Ties would be unnecessary.

The dragon climbed up onto her shoulder, nibbling at her hair. Clarke tickled at its belly, making it squeal and leap to the ground. Clarke laughed at its antics. She fed it some of the meat she had brought, which it ate happily. After that, Clarke walked down to the river to draw, the dragon following right behind, stopping every once in a while to sniff curiously at a bush or tree or to play in the snow. Clarke settled on a stone by the water and the dragon huddled beside her, watching her as she talked to it as she drew. She described her art materials, what she found most interesting to draw, how she hunted, and the medicinal properties of certain plants she had learned about from the Arkhall’s local healer, a widower named Nyko.

The dragon ate up the attention, seeming to hang onto every word Clarke said. She wasn’t sure how much the baby understood just yet, but she was gathering that it was intelligent. It learned quickly.

* * *

The following weeks, Clarke spent all her free time with her dragon. She talked to it constantly. Although it didn’t understand words quite yet, it could comprehend emotions and feelings. Clarke had taught it to avoid the farm and all people, and to hunt only in the Spine. The dragon had grown incredibly fast as well, and was now safe from pretty much everything dangerous in Palancar Valley. By the time winter was a month gone, the dragon’s shoulder had reached a height of her own.

Clarke was constantly preoccupied with worry of being discovered. It was impossible for her to hide the evidence that she had a dragon living in the woods. Giant heaps of dung, clawed trees and logs, and footprints were hard to disguise, so Clarke didn’t even try.

Luckily, Octavia had moved into Arkhall for the most part, working hard as an apprentice to Lincoln’s family, and most of her free time was spent with Lincoln. They were deep into their courtship now, and the entire village was already looking forward to having a wedding to attend in the spring or summer.

Aurora was not one for wandering, so Clarke figured her secret was safe for the moment, but she wanted to tell them soon. Before they found out on accident and panicked.

Clarke’s bond with the dragon was growing as fast as the dragon itself did. Their mental communication was getting stronger – they were able to exchange emotions and images from a few miles distance now, which made Clarke much more comfortable when the dragon was away hunting. In the evenings, she watched the dragon soar through the sky, wondering what it would be like to ride. She kept up a constant stream of conversation with the dragon while she was doing her chores, which was distracting, but the dragon had quickly grown to be one of the most important aspects of her life, and at times it seemed like they were almost the same creature.

One thing that concerned her was her inability to come up with a name for her dragon. She couldn’t even tell if it was a boy or girl. And she needed to know what the dragon would need as it grew more. Clarke was working with nothing, and the only person around who appeared to have any kind of knowledge about dragons was Jake the Storyteller. He could tell her when dragons were supposed to breathe fire and when they were large enough to ride and whether or not they were able to speak.

So when Octavia was returning to Arkhall one afternoon after a visit, Clarke went with her. Before they left, she went to go see her dragon since she would be gone most of the day. When she reached the clearing, her dragon flew down to meet her. Clarke opened up their connection, now perfectly at ease with sharing her mind with another intelligent creature. Her dragon was no animal.

_I’m going with Octavia to Arkhall for the day,_ she told it, sending a picture of both Octavia and the town to make sure the dragon understood. _I need you to stay here. Don’t follow me._

The dragon made a sound of distress. _Stay here,_ she repeated.

_Klark,_ a voice rang out.

The blonde stared. The dragon had spoken for the first time.

_Klark,_ it said again, saying her name in a way that enunciated the ‘k’. It spoke calm and clear, like it had always had the ability to say her name, and was just waiting for the right moment. _Klark_.

Clarke swallowed hard. _Klark,_ she acknowledged, repeating her name the way her dragon had said it. _And you’re my dragon._

The adolescent dragon nudged its head into Clarke’s chest. Clarke felt something like pride welling inside her. Her dragon had spoken its first word. And it had been her name.

* * *

She and Octavia parted ways at the smith’s, and Clarke went in search of Jake. She was just about to raise her hand to knock on his door when it opened. “Clarke, what can I do for you?” Jake greeted her.

“I was walking Octavia back to town and I was wondering if we could talk,” Clarke said politely.

Jake gave a small smile. Clarke had seen him be gruff with pretty much everyone else, but he always seemed to have a tiny soft spot for her. He opened the door wider. “Well, get in. Your questions never end so we’ll be a while.” The metal band with a sapphire setting and an engraved symbol Clarke didn’t recognize glinted from where it always rested on Jake’s wrist.

“I’d never heard that story before. The one you told when the traders were here about dragons. And that’s all I’ve been able to think about,” Clarke half-lied smoothly. She’d always been good at talking her way around a subject. “I’d never really thought about dragons before, but you made them sound so interesting, and I was wondering if you could tell me more?”

Jake gave a sigh. “Dragons. One of the greatest losses our world has ever seen. What did you want to know?” he asked roughly.

“Well, you talked about their accomplishments, but not how they started, or how their Riders are chosen, or where the dragons came from, or what makes Riders special – apart from their dragons, of course,” Clarke rambled. She cut herself off, not wanting to seem too excited and arouse Jake’s suspicions.

The storyteller chuckled. “That is too much to cover in one afternoon, O young curious one. We will have to condense.” Clarke waited patiently. She had time. Jake broke first. “The Dragokru – Dragon Riders, in the Elfish language, is a vast topic. We will start with your last concern – the dragons themselves,” he grumbled. “They, with the dwarves, are one of the few original inhabitants of this land. They probably began when it did, and they’ll die when it does. They were here long before us human-folk – longer even than the Elves, who came from another land on their silver ships.”

Clarke wanted to ask about elves but restrained herself. She needed to know more about her dragon. She could ask all her other questions later. “Were they as intelligent as humans and Elves?” she asked. “Could they speak?”

“It’s not in any stories I’ve ever heard, and I know them all,” Jake told her. “But they were more intelligent than humans could ever be. Perhaps the elder Elves had more knowledge, but simply because they had lived longer.”

“How long did they live, then?”

“They were immortal, unless they or their Rider was killed.”

“How can you know that?” Clarke asked, doubtful. “You said, in your story, that Riders lived hundreds of years, but how can they? It’s impossible for a person to live that long.”

Jake actually laughed, startling Clarke. She’d never heard him laugh before. “Where have you been to be all knowing at seventeen?” he chuckled. Clarke blushed, ready to retort. “No, don’t be angry. You can’t be expected to know everything. The simple answer is magic. Dragons were inherently magical, and that extended to their Riders, giving them long life, a stronger body, a keener mind, and better eye sight. A Rider’s ears would also begin to acquire points, though slowly and not too pronounced.”

Clarke gulped. Now she definitely had a deadline to tell her aunt. Her dragon was going to physically change her.

“How old were they when they could breathe fire?” she asked.

“Oh, not until they were five or six months old, about the time they could mate. The older they got, the longer they could keep the flame up. Some of the oldest they say could go for minutes at a time.”

_And now a name for you_ , Clarke thought to her dragon. “Who decided their names? Was it something the Riders picked out? Were they always fancy?”

“The Rider often chose, but it had to be fitting. A dragon would know how to express its displeasure if its Rider picked out one it didn’t like. And they weren’t always pompous sounding, although they certainly could be. Let’s see: there was Trikova, Gonakru, Nomon, Goufa…” Jake listed many names – too many for Clarke to remember them all. Last, he whispered, “and Skaiprisa,” barely loud enough for Clarke to hear. He was silent for a while after that, seemingly lost in thought, before he shook himself back to awareness. “Anything else?”

Clarke shook her head. “You gave me a lot to think about, and answered my questions and more. I’m sure I’ll come up with other ones at some point, but I have nothing but time.”

She thought she saw Jake look at her sadly for a moment out of the corner of her eye, but when she turned to him, he was as impassive as ever. “Well, come back when you have more,” he invited, surprising her. “You always keep me guessing with what you’ll want to talk about next. And maybe see Nyko soon. He’s been talking about how he misses teaching you recently,” he said gruffly.

Clarke grinned. “I will. And thank you. Seriously.”

* * *

Clarke walked back to the farm alone, in a happier state of mind than when she’d gone. She had a few answers, her dragon seemed to be maturing at a perfect rate, according to Jake’s stories, and Octavia was ecstatic to be back with Lincoln and his family.

_Klark_ , her dragon flew down to meet her, making Clarke grin.

“Hey, you,” she called, running up to it. “Is that the only word you know?” she complained playfully.

_Yes_ , the dragon replied smugly.

Clarke paused. _Okay, now you have a sense of humor,_ she thought at it. “I went and talked to Jake today,” she switched to verbal speech, still more comfortable with it than mental communication. “He gave me a lot of ideas for names. I don’t know if you’re a boy or girl, and you don’t seem inclined to tell me, so I’ll just list them and you tell me which ones you like.” She began rattling them off, but kept getting a sense of dissatisfaction emanating from her dragon.

Clarke recited all the ones she remembered, but her dragon didn’t seem to like any of them. Although they appeared to lean more towards the female names than the males, leading Clarke to conclude that her dragon was, in fact, female. “That’s all of them,” she said exasperatedly. “You didn’t want one of those?”

_Klark_ , her dragon said.

Clarke shook her head. “No, that’s my name. You can’t have the same one,” she muttered, distracted. _There was one other one_ , she thought. _Are you Skaiprisa_? She asked.

An approving hum rumbled from her dragon’s throat. Clarke grinned. “Skaiprisa it is.”

* * *

“We’re going to have to start thinking about when you are going to want to take an apprenticeship – when you want to marry,” Aurora announced to Clarke a few weeks later. “Octavia perhaps began sooner than I’d hoped, but you are older than her. It’s time you thought about your future.”

Clarke stared at her. Did her aunt want her to leave? Panic filled her at the thought. That would mean leaving Skaiprisa. Her dragon couldn’t follow her, she would be seen. Even the cover of darkness might not be enough.

A wave of calm settled over her. _It is well, Klark_ , Skaiprisa’s soothing voice trickled into her mind. Her vocabulary had grown in leaps and bounds with Clarke talking to her constantly and explaining what some words meant. They could hold long conversations together mentally now, no longer one sided.

_I won’t leave you_ , Clarke insisted.

_Maybe you won’t have to. But I will always follow you. Do not fear._

“Clarke?” Aurora asked when Clarke was silent for too long.

Clarke startled. “Aunt, I like my life,” she informed her. “Right here on the farm with you. It leaves me time to draw, and wander the woods, and hunt. I’m not interested in anyone in Arkhall. I don’t want to marry anyone there. I’m happy. Please,” she pleaded, not sure what she was asking for.

Aurora watched her for a moment, judging her words, before nodding. “If this is truly where you want to be, I will not stop you. And these old bones could always use the help,” she accepted.

Clarke leapt to her feet, ecstatic, and ran over to hug her aunt. “Thank you,” she whispered into her aunt’s shoulder.

Aurora’s arms slowly came up to return the hug. It had been a while since the two had embraced. But Clarke tightened her hold, and Aurora returned the favor. “You should know that Finn came today to ask me permission to court you,” her aunt revealed. “That’s why I bring this up. I told him I needed to speak with you about it before I granted it.”

Clarke shook her head, still in her aunt’s arms. “I don’t want to be courted by him,” she muttered. “I hate his father.”

“We must not let other people color our opinions, niece. Do you like Finn, is the question.”

Clarke shook her head once more. “No. I don’t want to be courted by him.”

“Then I shall send word to him tomorrow that he does not have permission,” her aunt promised.

“Thank you.”

* * *

Clarke was walking home from the woods a few days later with Skaiprisa padding along next to her when her dragon suddenly stiffened. _Prisa, what is it?_ Clarke asked silently.

Skaiprisa snarled and leaped to land in front of Clarke, blocking the teen’s path. _Stinking meat, rotting flesh,_ she spat. _Twisted men, torn minds, shattered souls!_

“Skaiprisa! Prisa!” Clarke yelled, trying to get her dragon’s attention. “Prisa, you’re not making sense. What’s wrong?” It took a few more tries, but Clarke finally got through to her dragon when she climbed up into the hollow of Skaiprisa’s shoulders, placing her hands on either side of the dragon’s neck. “Prisa tell me!”

_Men belonging to the oath breaker, killer of dragons. Men who aren’t men. I can smell them._ Skaiprisa growled.

“You can smell them? They’re at the farm?” Clarke questioned, growing alarmed.

_Not safe!_ With that, Skaiprisa took off, driving her wings down to fling them up into the air. Clarke screamed as the ground was left behind. She’d never been good with heights. She almost fell off when Skaiprisa banked towards the Spine, grabbing onto one of her neck spines and trying not to impale herself on the rest.

Feeling a bit more secure, Clarke tried to reach Skaiprisa’s thoughts. _We have to go back!_ She yelled mentally. _My aunt could be in danger!_

There was no response. Skaiprisa had blocked her out. Clarke went deeper into her mind, chipping away at her dragon’s defenses. Finally, when they were almost to the Spine, Clarke broke through.

She’d never felt her dragon’s thoughts so disorganized. Skaiprisa was in a panic, terrified of the ‘not men’ she’d smelled and determined to keep her Rider safe despite all other costs. _Prisa, we have to go back!_ Clarke shouted at her. Begged. _Please, we have to protect my aunt!_

Skaiprisa was startled that Clarke had managed to regain entry to her mind. _You are more important, Klark,_ she insisted. _I am keeping you safe._

_If we run, then we’re just cowards,_ Clarke told her. _We wouldn’t be fit to be called Dragon and Rider if we ran away at the first sign of trouble. Are you going to be known as the cowardly dragon, or will you protect what is yours?_

Skaiprisa huffed smoke at the implied insult. She and Clarke had never argued before. You _are what is mine,_ she informed her Rider. _I am protecting_ you.

_And Aurora is mine,_ Clarke said more gently, feeling Skaiprisa’s fear. _If they’re the king’s monsters, then they’re after you and me. It would dishonor us if other people were harmed because of us._ Clarke felt her dragon’s wavering thoughts before Skaiprisa finally banked to turn around. _Thank you_ , she sighed in relief.

_Don’t thank me yet. If we die because of your honor, then we will be known as the foolhardy Dragon and Rider, not the cowardly,_ Skaiprisa warned.

The flight back was short, and Skaiprisa landed right outside the house. Clarke choked back a cry when she saw that it was beginning to burn. ”Aurora!” she shouted, practically falling from Skaiprisa’s shoulders to run toward the house. Once inside, she searched frantically for her aunt. “Aunt Aurora, where are you!”

_Klark! ‘Ware!_ Skaiprisa called from outside, sounding frightened and angry. Clarke hastened to her room, which was still intact. The other side of the house was burning, but Clarke grabbed her bow and quiver. Her hunting knife was already at her waist. _Klark, I need you!_ Her dragon called again, sending her an image of monstrous looking men with swords approaching her as she snarled from where she was cornered against the house.

_I’m coming, Prisa!_ Clarke yelled back, rushing out of the house. _Hold on!_

Skaiprisa snapped one up in her jaws when he foolishly got to close, biting down hard as he screamed before tossing him a short distance away. Clarke reached them just as another swung his blade at her dragon, making Skaiprisa jerk away. Clarke screamed in rage and stopped to nock an arrow and aim. She sent the arrow flying into the back of the man who dared to attack her dragon. He dropped with a gurgle, the arrow finding its way into his heart.

A couple of the men now turned to face Clarke, and the girl froze momentarily. They were men, but didn’t look like men. Red surrounded their mouths, white paint dripping down their face. Their eyes were entirely black, lacking irises and whites, and they were all horribly scarred.

_Klark!_ Her dragon’s yell broke Clarke out of her trance. Skaiprisa’s tail slammed into one of the men, knocking him away from her Rider as she caught him with her spines. Clarke regathered her wits and focused on the other monster approaching her as her dragon returned to dealing with the last two attacking her.

Clarke’s arrow lodged in the monster’s shoulder, but he didn’t seem bothered, merely snarling and raising his sword higher. Her next arrow barely missed, and then he was on her. Clarke drew her knife, praying she wasn’t about to die.

She jumped out of the way of the man’s first swing, aiming a slash of her own at his arm. She missed. Clarke ducked away from him, putting some distance between them. His sword reach was too great for her to be able to attack again with just her knife, and she was too close to use her bow. _Prisa, I need you!_ She yelled.

Her dragon barreled through the two men who had been attacking her, catching a sword in the shoulder that caused her to hiss angrily as she pounced on the man going for Clarke, digging in with her claws. Clarke aimed and shot one of the last monsters in the chest as they went for Skaiprisa again, and her dragon got the final one with her tail. Clarke buried her knife in his neck to make sure he wouldn’t get up again, wincing when sticky, hot, blood splashed onto her torso and legs.

As soon as she was sure they were safe, Clarke bent over and threw up everything in her stomach and then some. She could feel Skaiprisa’s anxious thoughts and did her best to reassure her, but she was too busy trying to rid herself of the last of the contents of her belly. Her dragon nuzzled her cheek, trying to comfort her human.

Clarke had never injured a person before, let alone killed one. And no matter how monstrous those men were, she could tell that they had at least once been human. And Clarke was horrified at just how easy it had been to send arrows flying toward them with the intent to kill. Skaiprisa was less worried, though she was distressed at her human’s unease. The dragon had been acting on instinct. Killing was not new to her nature.

_Little one, your human may still be inside,_ Skaiprisa gently reminded Clarke. _She is who we came back for. Come, I will help look._

Clarke nodded, gathering herself. “Could you knock away the burning bits?” she croaked, her throat burning still. The snow on the ground and roof had slowed the fire, but it was still spreading. Her dragon went to do just that while Clarke ran back inside. She began sifting through the trashed wreckage of the house, avoiding the burning areas while Skaiprisa tore those parts to the snowy ground.

_Klark, I have found her,_ her dragon said a few minutes later. She sent Clarke an image of Aurora on the floor of the kitchen, a bleeding wound cutting deep into her side. _I think she yet lives, and I have stopped the spread of the fire, but she will need assistance._

Clarke ran to get her pack of medicines she had gathered and put together under the tutelage of Nyko from her room, rushing to get to where Skaiprisa waited. _Could you make a way out?_ She asked her dragon. Skaiprisa immediately began tearing away at the debris of the burnt wall close to Aurora, careful not to let anything land on the woman.

Clarke knelt next to her aunt, choking at the extent of the damage done to her. _They were looking for us,_ she mourned.

_Concentrate, Klark,_ her dragon ordered. _Use your healing._

Clarke nodded, gathering bandages and a paste to prevent infection. She quickly slathered the salve over her aunt’s side and wrapped the wound as tight as she could. She was terrified that she was too late, the pool of blood surrounding her aunt’s body frighteningly large. But her aunt still breathed faintly, and Clarke couldn’t help but hope that maybe everything would still be okay.

“We need to get her to Nyko,” Clarke informed her dragon. “I can’t carry her that far.”

“Clarke!” a voice yelled from outside. “Clarke, are you in there?”

Clarke and Skaiprisa froze. _Who is that?_ Her dragon asked warily.

_It’s Jake,_ Clarke replied. _Don’t move._ She picked up Aurora with a bit of struggle and staggered outside. Jake rushed toward her when she appeared.

“Clarke! Are you okay? What happened?” Jake took Aurora from her arms. The teen sagged in relief.

“Monsters,” she gasped out. “Men, but not men,” she tried to explain. “How did you get here?” she asked suspiciously.

“I saw the smoke,” Jake explained. “Clarke, you’re hurt.”

“Huh?” she asked dumbly. He gestured down to her legs. Clarke looked down. Her pants were ripped to shreds, the inside of her legs torn up from her ankles to her groin and bleeding sluggishly. “I don’t – remember,” she stuttered, just now registering the pain.

The older man cursed darkly. “Your dragon, is it safe?” Jake demanded.

“My what?” Everything was starting to go fuzzy, but Clarke was still aware enough to not reveal Skaiprisa’s existence.

_It is okay, Klark. He feels safe,_ Skaiprisa spoke up.

_Are you sure?_

_Yes,_ her dragon said firmly. _We can trust him._

“I don’t need to see it. Is it safe?” Jake asked again anxiously.

“ _She’s_ fine,” Clarke snapped.

Jake let out a breath. “Good,” he muttered. “Tell her to hide in the Spine. More Reapers will be on their way once Thelonious finds out the first wave failed to capture you.”

“More what?” Clarke managed through the ringing in her ears.

“Reapers,” Jake repeated. “The ‘monsters’ you spoke of. They’re called Reapers. More monster than man, bent to Thelonious’ will by the sorcery of a Shade. Now, we must hurry to Nyko. Aurora needs a healer now.” He lifted the unconscious woman in his arms. Clarke went to follow, but she stumbled to the ground.

“Clarke!”

“You have to take her to Nyko,” Clarke muttered. “My legs – I can’t walk that far. Please, take her. You can send someone back for me, but please – save Aurora and don’t tell anyone about Skaiprisa,” she begged.

Jake gave her an agonized glance, but nodded. “Your secret is safe with me. I promise,” he swore. “Skaiprisa will be safe. I will send someone as soon as Aurora is taken care of. Be well, Clarke,” he whispered before taking off at a shuffling run, her aunt secure in his arms.

_Klark, little one, I do not want to leave you,_ Skaiprisa murmured into her mind.

_You have to Prisa,_ Clarke replied, dazed. _I’ll be okay, I promise. As long as you’re safe, I’ll be okay. Wait for me in the Spine. I’ll come to you as soon as I can. Do it for me,_ she pleaded. _I can’t lose you._

Her dragon nudged her side, making Clarke smile and wrap her arms around her nose. _I am sorry for hurting you and running away,_ Skaiprisa said mournfully.

Clarke choked a laugh through tears she hadn’t realized had started, squeezing her dragon tighter. “I forgive you,” she whispered. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.” She let go, pushing her gently away. “Now go. Take care of yourself. Be safe.” With one last nuzzle, Skaiprisa was in the air and flying towards the mountains. Clarke watched her go, already missing her.

Sighing, Clarke heaved herself to her feet. She needed to know if Aurora was going to be okay, and that meant walking. Her legs immediately protested, making her entire body tremble. Clarke was exhausted, overwhelmed, and in pain. Her legs were a chopped up, bloody mess that nearly made Clarke puke when she looked at them. She barely made it to the main road before she was collapsing back to the ground, the world blurring at the edges.

_KLARK!_ Skaiprisa’s anxious call was the last thing Clarke heard before everything went dark.


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Skaiprisa make their escape from Arkhall

Clarke’s sleep was filled with dreams. Two people shrouded in cloaks – but not hidden enough for Clarke to not be able to tell that they were both women – boarded a ship. A man and a woman got on with them. Two dragons circled in the skies above.

The dreams shifted to a dank cell. A woman with pointed ears and wild brown hair lay with her eyes closed on the floor of the cell. Clarke stared at her, realizing nearly simultaneously that she was an elf and that she was without a doubt the most beautiful person Clarke had ever seen. The woman opened her eyes and seemed to gaze straight at her. Clarke jerked back, not wanting to be caught staring.

Everything went dark again.

* * *

Clarke groaned as she came back to awareness bit by bit. Her legs ached dully, as did her head and stomach. “Clarke?” a voice asked from somewhere next to her.

Clarke wanted to give in to the near overwhelming urge to go back to sleep and never wake up again. _Little one, it is time to wake,_ Skaiprisa spoke in her mind. _You are needed with the living._ Clarke grumbled again and forced her eyes open, finding Octavia staring at her like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

“Clarke, gods, Clarke,” she nearly sobbed in relief. Octavia dove to give her cousin a tight hug. “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay.”

“Octavia?” Clarke questioned. “What’s going on? Where am I?”

“You’re at Nyko’s house. You’ve been asleep for almost two days. Nyko said you tore off half the skin on your legs, and your fever didn’t break until last night,” the brunette explained, letting her go.

“Nyko’s…” Clarke trailed off, suddenly remembering what had happened. She gripped Octavia’s sleeve urgently and did her best to sit up. Octavia rushed to support her. “Aurora! Jake had Aurora,” she exclaimed. “Where is she? Is she alright?”

“Clarke, you’re still hurt. You need to rest some more,” Octavia tried to put her off.

“Octavia! Where is Aurora?” Clarke demanded fearfully.

Octavia’s face crumpled. “Mother – mother – she didn’t make it,” she stuttered out. “She died last night.”

Tears welled up in Clarke’s eyes and rolled down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” she apologized through her tears. “I tried to save her. But I wasn’t there – and those monsters – they – I tried to – and then I couldn’t carry her – and Jake was there – I tried – I’m sorry O, I’m so sorry,” Clarke sobbed into Octavia’s arms.

“Shh, shh,” Octavia tried to soothe Clarke while battling her own tears. “You killed the bastards, Clarke. You got them all, even as injured as you were.” She ran her hands through her cousin’s blonde hair, gently working out the knots that had formed in Clarke’s fevered sleep. “Mother would have been proud of you. You were so brave. You saved who knows how many other lives from those monsters. What if they’d gone to Arkhall next? They could have slaughtered all of us.” Octavia continued to comfort Clarke until her cousin had cried herself out, falling into an exhausted sleep.

* * *

When Clarke woke next, it was dark and she was alone. _Skaiprisa?_ She called immediately, anxious. They’d been apart for too long.

_I am here, Klark_ , her dragon reassured her. _I am sorry for the loss your family has suffered._

Clarke smiled weakly. _Thanks, Prisa. Are you well?_

_I was worried for you, but I am unharmed,_ was her dragon’s reply. _I tried calling you many times, but you were beyond my reach until just a few hours ago. Even then, it was not for long._

The teen nodded. _I was sick, and then I was sleeping,_ she explained. Footsteps sounded outside the door. _Prisa I have to go._ Clarke pulled herself out of her mind just as Nyko walked into the bedroom.

The healer smiled when he saw his former student was awake. “Ah, Clarke, you’ve rejoined the land of the living. It’s good to see you up,” he greeted warmly. “Half the town is worried you suffered grievous wounds while the other half celebrates you as a fierce warrior.”

Clarke picked at her quilt. “I don’t want their praise,” she muttered. “Where is my cousin?”

“She’s preparing for her mother’s funeral, with the help of Lincoln and his family,” Nyko informed her. “Lincoln wanted me to tell you that his family offered for you to stay with them. That you’re one of them, just as much as Octavia is.” He hesitated. “Or you can stay here. I miss having you as my student. You could become my official apprentice,” Nyko offered. “You’re the quickest learner I’ve ever seen, and it would be a pleasure to teach you again.”

Clarke sighed. “I’m sorry – I just – don’t want to think about it right now. Thank you, for the generous offer, but I can’t make decisions about my future tonight.”

“Of course not, Clarke,” Nyko acknowledged. “Heal first, and then you can think on it. I just want you to know that you have options. No one’s going to forget about you.”

Tears welled up in Clarke’s eyes again, despite her attempts to keep them at bay. She’d thought her family hadn’t extended past Aurora and Octavia. Then she’d gotten Skaiprisa, and Clarke was happier than she’d ever been. Now Aurora was gone, but the entire town was wishing her the best and maybe Arkhall had always been one big family and she just hadn’t realized. “Thank you,” she choked out.

Nyko grabbed her in a hug when Clarke couldn’t hold back tears any longer. “Oh, kid, shh,” he murmured. “It’s going to be okay. You’ll get past this, I promise. You’re a strong kid, Clarke. You’re so strong,” he comforted.

The last thing she felt like was strong. “I’m sorry,” Clarke apologized. She seemed to be doing that a lot today. “I’m sorry that I didn’t stay as your student. Maybe if I knew more, I could have saved –” she couldn’t finish.

“Aurora needed you then,” Nyko reassured her. “With the farm, with Octavia. You were a wonderful niece, and I was never angry that you put your family first. And you’re the reason Aurora even had a fighting chance at surviving. Your quick thinking kept her alive long enough to get to me. Long enough for her to wake up and let Octavia say goodbye. You did nothing wrong, Clarke.” He continued to embrace the grieving teen until Clarke’s tears had finally run dry and she had wiped the last traces from her cheeks.

“Can you – I think, maybe – I just need a little time,” Clarke excused.

Nyko nodded. “Of course. I’ll bring you some soup in a while. You still need to regain your strength.” With that, Clarke was left blessedly alone to mourn.

_I can’t live like this,_ she groaned, burying her face in her hands.

_Then don’t,_ was Skaiprisa’s simple reply.

_What do I do?_ Clarke cried out in despair. _If everything ends like Aurora, then what does it matter what we do? How can anything I accomplish be worthwhile?_

_It’s not what you accomplish, but how you accomplish it. You know what you feel. I cannot guide you – your heart must do that. You possess options; choose one and pursue it with all you have,_ Skaiprisa instructed.

_When did you get so wise?_ Clarke managed to tease half-heartedly.

She heard her dragon’s mental laughter. _You are the only creature I know. It would appear to be obvious._

Clarke blushed at her dragon’s praise. She did as Skaiprisa had suggested, and considered her choices. It became clear that one stood out amongst the rest. A burning desire fueled by anger and grief. _We have to find who ordered this,_ she told her dragon. _Those – Reapers, Jake said – may have once been men but weren’t any longer. They didn’t understand pain, fear – I don’t think they had a single thought of their own. Something made them that way, and then ordered them to attack our home. I want to find this person or thing._

_Yes,_ Skaiprisa agreed frankly. _I do as well._ _As you said as we flew: we have a duty if we are going to be known as Dragon and Rider. A duty to all. And I returned despite my fear for both myself and you because of this responsibility. That duty will always be ours, beyond just our loved ones._

_But what about Octavia?_ Clarke realized. _I can’t leave her alone. I understand, but my duty is first to her._

_Understand this: I have outgrown this valley. Eventually, I will be exposed. Forces greater than us may already know. Our presence in Arkhall may only serve to endanger those around us. Think about what will be best for Okteivia’s well-being. She will be safer here with Linkon whilst we hunt._ Clarke felt her dragon growl in pleasure at the thought.

Clarke nodded reluctantly. _You’re right,_ she agreed. _We’ll do it. But I’ll need some time to prepare. Meet me in a few hours._ She sent her dragon an image of their clearing in the woods, indicating she’d meet her there, and then blocked their connection. She was going to need to concentrate if she was going to get out of Arkhall without being noticed.

Bracing herself, Clarke heaved herself to her feet. She prepared for pain, and was pleasantly surprised when it wasn’t unbearable. That settled, she began listing what she would need to escape Arkhall with her dragon. First, meat for when Skaiprisa couldn’t risk hunting. She would get that from Quint’s. Some way to make a saddle so she didn’t tear apart her legs again. Clarke could get food and her medical kit from her aunt’s house. Her bow was still there, as well.

Clarke slipped out of Nyko’s house, creeping as silently as she could. She felt no guilt when she stole into Quint’s store room and took the meat she needed. He had cheated her enough times that this would simply even it out. Clarke did feel bad when she stole two ox hides from the Millers’ tannery, but she promised herself that she would pay them back someday. Her raiding done, Clarke made her way to the smithy.

_I just need to speak with O and then we’ll be on our way,_ she told Skaiprisa.

_It should be interesting,_ was her dragon’s vague response. When Clarke asked, Skaiprisa refused to clarify.

Still preoccupied with what Skaiprisa may have meant, Clarke knocked on Lincoln’s family’s door. It opened just a few seconds later, revealing a tired looking Lincoln.

“Clarke?” he questioned, yawning.

Clarke fidgeted. “Where’s O, Linc?” she asked.

“Asleep,” the older boy answered. “I can wake her, but she’s exhausted. She’s spent the last two days constantly moving between her mother’s sickbed and yours. I was about to join her. I am glad to see you have recovered, though.” He smiled sympathetically at her.

The blonde nodded, her guilt deepening. “Perhaps that’s best,” she murmured.

“Clarke, what’s going on?” Lincoln questioned her nervously.

“I’m leaving,” Clarke said abruptly. “Those monsters – they attacked my house. Someone sent them, and I’m going to find out who and make them pay.”

Lincoln shook his head. “Clarke you can’t go. You can’t leave Octavia, she needs you,” he insisted.

Clarke smiled sadly. “She has you, Linc,” she denied. “This is all my fault. I know it doesn’t make sense now but it will. Tell her I’m sorry, but she’ll understand why someday. Will you tell her that?” she begged.

“If you’re going, then let us come with you,” Lincoln suggested.

Clarke shook her head adamantly. “No it’s too dangerous. I know what I’m doing. Please, will you just tell her what I said and that I love her? So much.”

Lincoln sighed. “I’ll tell her, but O’s going to be furious,” he agreed reluctantly.

Clarke chuckled through tears and threw her arms around the young blacksmith. “As long as she’s alive to be furious with me. Thank you, Linc,” she whispered into his shoulder. “I’ll miss you both.”

Lincoln hugged her to him tightly. “You take care of yourself. You’re a part of this family, and I’ll expect to see you again in one piece.”

She nodded, letting him go and backing away. Lincoln had become one of her best friends, and she hadn’t even noticed. It made leaving twice as difficult.

* * *

_Prisa, I’m here_ , Clarke called mentally. She had managed to salvage her pack from the wreckage of her home, filling it with her stolen goods. Her bow was slung around her shoulder in its quiver, the hides in her arms.

_Do not be alarmed, Klark, but we have company,_ her dragon replied. Clarke hesitated before dropping the hides to take her bow in hand and nock an arrow. She felt Skaiprisa’s internal sigh. _I said do not be alarmed,_ her dragon repeated.

As Clarke crept into the clearing, she was met with the sight of Jake standing a little ways off from Skaiprisa. “It took you long enough to get here,” he greeted her dryly. Clarke shot a look at Skaiprisa, wondering why her dragon had landed with a stranger nearby, putting herself in danger. “Ah. Your dragon and I have had a conversation, and she won’t interfere until you and I have figured a few things out.”

_Why would you speak with him?_ Clarke demanded.

_Because of the slaughter at Tondisi,_ Skaiprisa uttered solemnly.

_What?_ Her dragon didn’t answer. “How could you talk to her?” Clarke instead turned to Jake. “I thought you didn’t believe dragons had the ability to speak.”

“Point in fact, I lied,” Jake told her. “Dragonspeak is an incredibly hard skill to maintain, but one I have never been as grateful for as I am today. Now tell me, what is it you plan to do?”

Clarke struggled to keep up. First Jake had sabotaged her bond with her dragon, and now he wanted Clarke to explain her plans just because? Her head was buzzing like mad. She just wanted to find a safe place to let herself heal.

_Jake has not impaired or disrupted our bond in any way, little one,_ Skaiprisa reassured her human gently. _I sense no danger from him. I still believe he deserves our trust._

Feeling a little better at her dragon’s words, Clarke sighed heavily. “We’re going after whoever made those people into Reapers,” she told him stoutly. “Some – _thing_ – made innocent people into monsters. We are going to find them and make them answer for what they’ve done to my aunt and everyone else.”

The last thing Clarke expected was for Jake to grin proudly. “A worthy endeavor, and one you are fit to carry out, I believe,” he praised. “I did not know you were so wise to go after the source of the evil, rather than the immediate cause of your pain.”

“You don’t know me,” Clarke snapped. That made Jake flinch, for some reason, but Clarke ignored it in her anger. “I am not some child, wailing over a toy taken away. I’m an adult, and a Dragon Rider. She and I know our duty to the people.”

Jake nodded resolutely. “That you are, Clarke. But you and your dragon are still inexperienced in the ways of the world. Neither of you have ever left Palancar Valley, while I journeyed far in my youth. And those Reapers were rife with the stench of dark sorcery. I sense a Shade’s involvement. It strikes me that my help would not be unwelcome.” The offer sounded more like an order.

“Why do you want to come?” Clarke asked doubtfully. She didn’t want to trust him, but Skaiprisa did, so Clarke would as well. _If this is a trap…_ she warned her dragon.

Jake chuckled. “I’m not about to let the first Dragon and Rider go off without me and have adventures. Besides, I can offer you training.”

Clarke nodded reluctantly. A pleased Skaiprisa unfolded her wings and took off into the night sky, forcing the two humans to stagger for their balance. “All right,” Clarke agreed. “But Octavia will be looking for me as soon as she wakes. So will Nyko. I want to be gone from here when they do, and my legs will slow me down. We need to leave now.”

“Ah. I’d forgotten your injury. You rode her?” Jake asked.

“Not willingly,” Clarke grumbled. “I was kidnapped.”

An indignant snort floated down into her mind. _I did no such thing,_ her dragon retorted.

A laugh of pure joy from Jake shocked Clarke. He was staring up at Skaiprisa flying in the darkness above them, his eyes bright with something that Clarke thought might be longing. “Never did I think I’d live to see this day,” he murmured. “When dragons and Riders flew the skies once more.”

* * *

A few days later they camped a little ways off the main road, hidden in a copse of trees. Jake watched in awe as Skaiprisa landed in front of them, buffeting the both of them with the wind from her wings. “She is truly a wonder, your dragon,” he told Clarke. Skaiprisa preened at the praise, allowing Jake to rub her brow. “What is her name?”

“Skaiprisa.” At the look Jake gave her, Clarke felt the need to defend herself. “It was the only one you told me that she liked, and –”

“It is a worthy name for her,” Jake interrupted, giving the topic of their discussion another admiring glance. “She is certainly a true princess of the Sky.” An air of sadness passed over his face, but the older man shook it away.

Clarke threw some meat in a pot with water and salt, leaving it to stew. _Might as well get used to this,_ she grumped to her dragon.

“Do you have a plan?” Jake asked, idly watching the fire.

“Not really,” the teen shrugged. “I assumed I’d figure it out as I went. Someone has to know something about how people end up as Reapers. If a Shade is involved, as you seem to think possible. One of the traders mentioned something about people disappearing in cities. Dozens of them at a time. Maybe someone there will be able to tell me.”

Jake nodded. “It’s a good start,” he acknowledged, throwing another branch on the fire. “I have a friend in Floudon. It’s a trade city that rests on a major crossroads. If anyone knows anything about Reapers and Shades, it will be Kane.” He picked out a couple of straighter branches and began whittling at them with his knife.

“All right,” Clarke assented. “Floudon it is. How long does it take to get there?” She had no idea where Floudon was. She’d heard the traders speak of it in years past, but only in brief as they discussed where their goods had come from.

“Two months on foot. A few weeks on horseback. We’ll stop and buy two in the next town.”

Clarke shook her head. “I can just ride Skaiprisa. Buy one.”

“Never will a horse be able to keep up with a dragon – even as young a one as your Skaiprisa. And I will be unable to teach you anything with you in the Sky and me on the Ground.”

“Fine. Horses. And what are you planning on teaching me?” Clarke grumbled.

Jake threw one of the sticks he’d been carving at her. Surprised, Clarke fumbled it for a second. “Guard yourself,” he barked.

The blonde scrambled to her feet. “Uh, what?”

Jake sighed in exasperation. “Sword play was an essential ability to Riders. They would become so skilled, the blade was an extension of their arm. If you want to defend yourself, you need to know how to use a sword. And since I don’t fancy losing an arm to your wild swings, we will begin with sticks,” he explained impatiently.

Clarke looked down at her stick and back at the older man. The thought of using a sword made her feel just a bit sick. “Can’t I just use my bow?” she asked.

“You are skilled at long range, kid. I’ve seen you in Arkhall’s competitions and I don’t think there’s much I could teach you about shooting,” Jake acknowledged. “But what happens when an enemy gets inside your range? When there is no time? You can’t expect your dragon to rescue you every time.”

Clarke thought back to the Reaper that had gotten too close. She _had_ had to call Skaiprisa for help. “All right,” she agreed. “But I’ve never done this before.”

“Then there is no time like the present.” Jake attacked her without warning. Clarke yelped as she swung her stick up to block him. But his sword was no longer there. Instead, pain exploded in her side as Jake landed a solid hit to Clarke’s ribs, pulling back at the last moment so he didn’t break or crack anything.

Clarke hissed in pain. “Again,” was Jake’s only response. He jabbed this time, and Clarke leapt to the side to avoid his stick, taking a swing of her own. Jake easily dodged, sweeping Clarke’s feet out from under her with one of his. Clarke landed painfully on her back. She groaned, getting frustrated. “Get up,” Jake demanded.

The teen shot him a glare, getting to her feet. She brought the stick up in front of her, waiting to see what Jake would do. He swung at her side again. Clarke blocked it with her ‘sword’, but this time immediately moved away, trying a jab at Jake. He dodged, but Clarke swung at his head. He blocked it, and Clarke instantly switched directions. She was blocked yet again. “Improvisation, good,” Jake praised her as he backed away.

He went a little easier on her after that, stopping periodically to show Clarke how he’d performed a certain attack or defense. Still, by the time the session was over, Clarke ached in several places and she was sure she had bruises in several other spots as well. She’d had to finally call a stop because her legs felt like they were going to open up again and bleed everywhere. To his credit, Jake allowed her to sit immediately. He dished up a bowl of stew for her, which Clarke downed hungrily.

“You’re not completely inept,” Jake told her after their supper. “It shouldn’t be too difficult to teach you basic swordplay. Now, get some rest. We have a long walk tomorrow if we want to get to Droship by sundown.”

Clarke limped over to Skaiprisa, laying down gently on the bedroll that was by her dragon’s side. _I do not see the need for pointy sticks,_ Skaiprisa pondered. _It would be much simpler for you to use claws._

_Unfortunately, not all of us are born battle ready,_ the blonde snarked back tiredly. _We need to make weapons in order to defend ourselves._

_Dragons do it better,_ Skaiprisa thought smugly.

Clarke managed a chuckle, curling into her dragon’s warm belly. Jake was settled down by the banked fire, already wrapped up in his blanket. Skaiprisa lowered her wing to cocoon Clarke in her warmth. The teen sighed happily as some of the ache went away with the extra heat. _You’re probably right,_ she whispered mentally, almost asleep.

_I would like to fly with you again,_ Skaiprisa murmured. _Without mortal danger to distract us._

_When my legs are healed,_ Clarke promised.

Skaiprisa’s happy hum was the last thing Clarke heard before she drifted off into an exhausted sleep.


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Jake reach their first destination and Clarke's curiosity of the Elf grows as they speak for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, before the chapter. I had someone express dislike at the thought that Lexa was a "damsel in distress" in this fic. Let me clear that up: there are no damsels in distress. Lexa is a strong character that I adore, as is Clarke. But neither of them are perfect. I need Lexa to be where she is for plot reasons. Lexa is in trouble, and Clarke may or may not eventually have the ability to help her. Clarke will be in trouble someday, and maybe Lexa will help her then. They are both amazing characters, and I would not downgrade one to lift up another.
> 
> That said, I love comments. I want to know what you guys think. But if you’re going to be unnecessarily rude and go off on some strange rant in my comment section that was, frankly, disturbing, I reserve the right to delete it. Be polite to me, and I’ll be polite to you. Thank you in advance.
> 
> On a better note, the true language or whatever it's called is going to be a mixture of both Trigedasleng and a few choice words of the language from the book, mostly because they’re both incomplete. Translations for Trigedasleng, to the best of my knowledge, will be in brackets after the phrase. Sorry for the long note, I just wanted to clear the air real quick about that one thing.

Clarke was back in the prison, but she wasn’t locked in a cell anymore. Instead, she was in a dimly lit room, and there were a few men huddled around a table. She crept closer, and was horrified to see the Elf woman she’d seen in the cell in her last dream laying on the wood, covered in cuts and dark bruises.

One man laughed and flung his hand forward. A whip Clarke hadn’t seen came down on the woman’s back, making her grunt quietly in pain, though she refused to cry out. She kicked backwards, catching one man in the stomach and making him choke. Another lash landed, and the woman stilled.

“What are you doing?!” Clarke cried, running for the men. The Elf suddenly looked up, spotting Clarke and meeting her gaze. There was slight recognition, but mostly the Elf’s eyes held a tired pain inside of them. Like she had given up, and was just waiting for the end. “Stop it!” The second Clarke would have made contact with the man hurting the other woman, she woke up.

“Bastards,” Clarke muttered.

 _Little one, it is still early. The sun has not yet woken, why have you?_ Skaiprisa asked her.

 _It was that girl again, Prisa._ Clarke spoke to her dragon mentally so she wouldn’t disturb Jake. _I was back in that prison from my dream, but there were these men. They were – torturing her. Whipping her. And they_ laughed. Clarke wanted to cry at the memory.

 _It was only a dream, little one,_ Skaiprisa tried to soothe her Rider.

Clarke shook her head. _It feels like more than that, Prisa,_ she denied. _What if I’m supposed to be dreaming about her? She feels_ real _. When I see her, she’s as real in my mind as your voice. Are true dreams part of being a Rider?_

The dragon huffed. _I do not know, Klark. That is a question for the old man._

_I’ll ask him over breakfast._

Clarke pulled herself onto Skaiprisa’s back, sitting sideways in the hollow of her shoulders to keep her legs from rubbing against the rough scales and splitting open again. Together, they watched the sun rise as they waited for Jake to stir.

* * *

Clarke hadn’t realized how stiff and sore she was from sparring the night before until Jake woke up and she got down from Skaiprisa to help him break camp. Jake waved her off from rolling up their bedding and making breakfast, telling her to deal with her legs.

She went around a tree to get a sense of privacy before she took off her breeches. Skaiprisa stood on the other side with her head wrapped around the trunk to watch, offering more protection. Clarke uncapped the jar of antiseptic lotion she kept in her med kit and slathered it over the insides of her thighs and calves, wincing as the stinging herbs found open bits in her sores.

Overall, she was pleased with how her legs were healing. The redness had faded somewhat to brown in places, and in other spots her scabs were peeling. She would have scars, but as long as they didn’t hinder her, Clarke didn’t much care. Skaiprisa hummed soothingly while her Rider flinched her way through treating herself.

Breakfast was ready by the time Clarke was finished and had her pants back on. She mumbled out a thanks when Jake silently handed her a bowl of porridge. Clarke waited until they were almost done before bringing up her troubling dreams.

“Jake?” she asked.

“Hmm?” he grunted back.

“Is it possible to have dreams that are real? Dreams about someone that really exists?” Clarke stumbled over her question. “That’s not what I meant. Did Riders have dreams that showed them what was happening to a real person while it happened?”

Jake looked over at her. “How about you tell me what you dreamed, kid, and we’ll sort out the confusion from there?” he suggested, sounding amused.

Clarke nodded, relieved. “When I was unconscious at Nyko’s after the Reaper attack, I had a dream about this woman. An Elf woman,” she explained quickly. “She was in a prison cell. She looked right at me. That was when I woke up. Then last night,” she continued, “I dreamed about her again. Only this time, she was laying on a table, and there were these men. They were hurting her. Badly. But she looked at me again. I know she could see me,” Clarke insisted. “I tried to get the men to stop, but when I touched the man hurting her, I woke up again.”

Jake watched the teen thoughtfully. “Seeing dreams – visions – were not common amongst the Riders, no.” Clarke deflated slightly at the news. “However,” he pondered. Clarke perked up again. “It was not entirely unheard of, and it was more common in Riders that had magic in their family already.”

“Aurora certainly didn’t have magic, so I doubt her sister did either, and I don’t know anything about my father,” Clarke muttered darkly.

An emotion flashed across Jake’s face that Clarke didn’t recognize, but she didn’t question it. “It is possible that you have developed a rare skill of the Riders, but it is more likely that you simply have some magical blood in you. What is concerning, though, is this Elf. Since the rise of Thelonious, they have rarely ventured beyond the boundaries of their forest to the north. That one has been captured,” he shook his head. “It bodes ill for us all. Tell me about her.”

“Thin, curly brown hair. It looked like it had been braided at one point – she had the beginnings of them all over her head. She was young. Not much older than me, I would guess,” Clarke described.

Jake laughed. “Appearance has no bearing on an elf’s age, know that now,” he told her. “One that looks your age could be anywhere from fifty to a few hundred years old. The ones that look to be in their thirties can be up to a thousand years old.”

Clarke gaped at him. “You can’t be serious,” she denied. “They’re immortal, too?”

“No, but very long lived. Now, there is nothing we can do for this particular elf at the moment, although I would say that she is, in fact, real. Soon we will reach Droship, and with any luck, be in Floudon late next week.” Jake ushered the teen to her feet.

* * *

Throughout their walk that day, Jake spoke at length of the many ways for Clarke to keep her dragon happy and healthy. He taught her what herbs would make Skaiprisa’s teeth clean and strong, and which would make her sick. He told her about cleaning her scales and oiling them so that they would not become brittle and chip.

Clarke learned about how to block off her mind, as well. “Why would I want to do that?” she asked Jake that afternoon. “Wouldn’t that make it impossible for me to talk to Skaiprisa?”

“It would,” Jake acknowledged. “However, there may come a time where it is imperative that you be separated. Or that you are kept apart by force. If you are captured, they can hurt your dragon through your link by harming you. Also, blocking yourself will keep you safe from mental attacks from either another Rider, or a sorcerer or Shade. Do you see now why you must learn this?”

The blonde nodded. “So how do I do it?”

“Focus on a single point. A rock for instance. Narrow your focus to include _just_ that object. Everything else around you must disappear. You build defenses like stone walls, and you throw those up as you focus. No one will be allowed inside.”

“Skaiprisa did that to me once,” Clarke realized. “When she tried to protect me from the Reapers. She was so frightened, I couldn’t reach her in my mind. It took everything I had to break through.” Her dragon hummed apologetically in Clarke’s mind. Clarke sent a wave of reassurance back. She had long since forgiven Skaiprisa for kidnapping her.

Jake, however, looked surprised. “You were able to punch through your dragon’s walls?” he asked doubtfully. “She didn’t let you in?”

 _I was surprised as well, old man,_ Skaiprisa said to them both. _But Klark_ did _reach me through our bond when I could hear nothing but fear._

“Why?” Clarke asked aloud. “Why does it matter? She’s my dragon, shouldn’t I be able to talk to her no matter what?”

“Clarke, no. A dragon’s defenses are often near unbeatable. The Riders were always the most vulnerable of the pair. That you were able to break through…I will have to think on what this means,” Jake said. “For now, practice your own defenses. Have Skaiprisa try to break through.”

Clarke spent the rest of the afternoon trying to figure out how to build walls around her brain. It gave her a headache, and it seemed like no matter how hard she concentrated, Skaiprisa was always able to punch a hole in them in less than a minute.

Jake beat her with sticks again that night and the next, although he seemed pleased with Clarke’s slight progress. “It’s a start,” he allowed as Clarke limped stiffly over to her dragon to wait for their supper.

The next day, they were in Droship. Jake quickly found a place to purchase some horses. With some sure haggling, he soon had a couple dependable animals. “Here,” he said, shoving the reins into Clarke’s hands. “I’ll get the tack.” He was gone before Clarke could protest that she’d never even touched a horse before.

One stood patiently, but the other was tossing his head. “Hey, hey,” she tried to soothe it, but it began to prance in place, pulling on its bridle. Clarke reached out mentally and attempted to make contact. _Friend,_ she tried. _You’re safe. Safe._ She did her best to convey a sense of safety to it. The horse calmed a bit, eyeing the teen before settling completely, allowing Clarke to rub his muzzle. She smiled, delighted at her success.

Once Jake returned and saddled both horses after promising to show her how to do it that night, they were off again, this time much faster than before. They covered the same amount of distance that afternoon as a day and a half of walking normally could.

“Jake?” Clarke asked as they rode.

“Hmm?”

“I think I spoke to my horse in the barn earlier. Not really – I don’t think he understood the words, exactly – but emotions.”

Jake frowned. “It took most Dragon Riders years to be able to communicate with any animal not their dragon. We may have to advance your mental training – you are developing much more rapidly than I had anticipated.”

“I still can’t shield that well,” Clarke pointed out.

The older man nodded. “We will focus on that, as it is imperative you learn that, and soon. Until then, try not to talk to any more animals or people. How are your legs?”

“They’re all right, but I think we’ll need to stop soon. I don’t want to tear them open just when they’re almost healed,” Clarke answered.

“We’ll stop at that next group of trees, a couple miles ahead, then.”

* * *

Jake took it easy on her with the sword that night, mindful of the extra strain riding had put on Clarke’s legs. Instead, he focused on teaching her new patterns of attack and defense and how to put them together so they flowed. Clarke thought it might look like dancing to an outside viewer. It was a different kind of exertion, not having an opponent, and different muscles hurt when she finally collapsed next to Skaiprisa.

Clarke dreamed again. She was back in the prison cell from her first dream, and the Elf was there as well. The other woman was lying on her stomach, her arms covering her head protectively. Clarke knelt next to the Elf to get a look at her back, wanting to help somehow, but the Elf woke before she could see very much.

“More Shade trickery,” she snarled, scooting away. “Tell Cage that I am not fooled by his ghosts.”

“Cage?” Clarke asked before realization dawned. “Is he the Shade? Does he have something to do with the Reapers?”

“You try my patience. Bants, yu stedaunon ( _Leave, dead one),_ ” the Elf spoke in a language Clarke didn’t understand before letting her head fall back to the ground, weary.

“Wait, wait,” Clarke pleaded. “I’m not a ghost, or a Shade, or some evil spirit. I’m just dreaming, I think,” she tried to explain. “The last time I was here, I tried to stop that man from hurting you, but I woke up as soon as I touched him. My name is Clarke.” She waited hopefully.

It was in vain. “Nothing is as it seems,” the Elf whispered. “Beja, gon yu we ( _Please, leave_ ).” She seemed to pass out.

Clarke fidgeted, not sure what to do to wake up now that the Elf had lost consciousness. She went to take another look at the woman’s back to see how bad it was. When she tried to lift the girl’s shirt for a better angle, she woke.

It was still dark when Clarke’s eyes opened. _You were far away_ , Skaiprisa commented quietly.

Clarke crawled up onto her dragon’s back, needing the closeness and reassurance of her presence. “It was that girl again,” she murmured. “But I spoke to her this time. She thought I was some kind of ghost. Not real. She looked really weak, Prisa.”

_What do we do about it?_

“We need to find her. I think she’s important. And I learned some things, even with her so out of it. She said something about a Shade – called him Cage. What if he’s the Shade who has something to do with the Reapers?” Clarke asked, beginning to grow excited. “Maybe he – controls them – or made them, even, like Jake thought.”

 _There cannot be that many Shades in existence at once,_ Prisa said thoughtfully. _It would seem likely. Or, at least, not improbable._

“When we get to Floudon, I’ll try to find whatever I can about Cage. And how to kill him,” Clarke decided. Even if he wasn’t the one responsible for Aurora’s death, then he was still ordering the torture of the Elf, and Clarke found herself furious over it. “And if we find him, we find the woman.”

 _Then we kill him –_ Skaiprisa began.

 _– And we have our revenge,_ Clarke finished.

* * *

The next morning, Jake showed Clarke how to make a saddle for Skaiprisa out of the hides she’d stolen. “There are two types of saddles Riders will use. One is built for long distance, regular riding. It’s molded, padded, and very sturdy. The second type, the one we’re making, is used for agility, fast flying, and is thus much easier to put together,” he explained as he worked.

Clarke helped him cut holes in the two large cut outs he’d made, then threaded them through with straps he’d cut from the leftover hide. The saddle was mostly held together by intricate knots, with straps that went around Skaiprisa’s chest and under her legs that could be loosened to fit her as she grew.

Skaiprisa was humming excitedly as the finishing adjustments were made. _Come, Klark. Let us fly,_ she urged.

“Soon,” Clarke promised. “I want to, Prisa. Correctly, this time. “

”Nothing’s holding you back,” Jake interrupted. “Get up there.”

“My legs,” Clarke reminded him.

Jake scoffed. “Your legs are as healed as they’re going to get. There is nothing wrong with them. If you’re scared to ride Skaiprisa, that’s another matter.”

Clarke huffed. “I’m not scared,” she denied, climbing up onto her dragon as she practically danced in place, eager to be in the air. “See –” the rest of Clarke’s retort was lost in a scream as Skaiprisa took off without warning. Clarke snatched the front of the saddle, trying not to lose her balance. “Prisa!” she yelled before remembering. _Prisa! Get back on the Ground, now!_

 _Why?_ Her dragon wondered. _You will only delay our right longer if I land now. We are meant to do this, Klark. Together,_ she insisted.

 _You_ know _I don’t like heights. And this is much higher than Igualda Falls_ , Clarke replied, her eyes shut tight. _Please, Prisa!_

 _No. Open your eyes, Klark. See what we have been given that no one else has had in one hundred years,_ Skaiprisa coaxed.

After another minute, Clarke finally gathered the courage to listen to her dragon. Once she did, she looked around in wonder. The trees were dots beneath them. Clarke could see the sun glinting off a river far in the distance. The clouds looked close enough to touch from where she sat on Skaiprisa's back. _This is what you see, all the time?_ She asked.

_Yes, little one. This is our birthright._

_It’s amazing, Prisa_ , Clarke admitted, trying to see in every direction at once. Jake was far below them, following on horse as best he could. _I’m sorry I delayed this longer than my legs needed._

 _Our first experience together was not pleasant,_ Skaiprisa acknowledged. _You have not been in the air since you could walk, as I have. Some apprehension is to be expected. But – we will fly together more now?_ The question made Skaiprisa sound as young as she was, which didn’t happen often.

 _As often as we can,_ Clarke promised. She felt her dragon’s delighted hum run through her legs, and returned that feeling tenfold.

* * *

Clarke landed after a few hours of flying, so Jake could go over some more lessons while they rode. It was getting to be evening when Skaiprisa spotted something strange in the distance.

 _There is a small town two miles ahead,_ she broadcasted to both of them. _It appears to have been abandoned quickly._

“You’re legs up for the extra distance?” Jake asked.

Clarke nodded. “Let’s investigate. Skaiprisa, keep your distance, in case there’s anyone there.” The pair pushed their horses to go faster, reaching the town in a couple of hours.

The town was indeed abandoned. Some of the buildings seemed to have been set on fire, although the flames had burnt out before the entire town could go up.

“I know this place,” Jake murmured.

“What happened here?” Clarke wondered.

“This is the town of Nehorizo. It used to be the home of a few thousand.”

“It’s the home of no one now,” Clarke said dryly. She regretted her nonchalant statement when she came across the first body a few moments later.

“Urgals,” Jake growled.

“Not Reapers?” Clarke inquired.

“No. This was done by Urgal hand and spear. You can see the fist-shaped bruises on some of the people,” Jake pointed them out.

“Why are Urgals here?” Clarke asked, stringing her bow quickly.

“I don’t know, but it’s nothing good. Be alert,” Jake warned her, gripping his reins tighter.

He and Clarke were making their way through the rest of the town, searching for any possible survivors, when a noise of wood against wood made Clarke pause. All of a sudden, three Urgals burst from an half burned house, raising spears and shields and spouting war cries. Jake shouted in surprise as his horse reared, its eyes rolling wildly. One Urgal struck Jake in the shoulder, and the older man fell to the side of his horse.

Clarke threw herself off her own horse. “Hey!” she shouted at the three creatures, shooting one of them in the shoulder. The injured one snarled and all three fixed their red eyes to her. “Come and get me!” Clarke turned and fled, the three angry Urgals chasing after her.

 _Skaiprisa, I need you!_ Clarke yelled for her dragon as she ran, sending her a mental picture of her approximate location.

The dragon took off at once from where she’d been waiting impatiently by the river. _I’m coming, Klark,_ she promised, flying as fast as she could.

Clarke was fast, but the Urgals were faster. She tried to throw them off by ducking into an alleyway, only to find that it was a dead end. She spun around to find that the three monsters had caught up to her, grinning evilly.

 _I’m almost there, but I can’t see you!_ Skaiprisa called.

Clarke sent her a general feeling of distress but then focused on the immediate problem. She drew back on her bow, breathed, and let go. Her arrow flew true – into the neck of the lead Urgal, who dropped with a cry of pain before lying still. Clarke’s next arrow caught in one of their shields. The two remaining Urgals’ laughter sounded like gravel, and it grated on Clarke’s ears. She knew she was about to die, and their gloating was going to be the last thing she ever heard.

Something clicked into place inside her mind, and Clarke wondered how there was a time she didn’t know that she could do this. Now perfectly calm, she drew her bow one more time. As she released, she screamed out the word, “ _Brisingr!”_

Blue flames erupted around her arrow and engulfed the two Urgals. Suddenly bone tired, Clarke couldn’t hang onto her bow as she watched the monsters burn. She dropped to her knees and then to her back.

_KLARK!_

The last thing Clarke saw before she lost consciousness was Skaiprisa descending as she continued to cry out for Clarke.

* * *

Clarke’s climb back to awareness was slow. First, she discovered that she was warm and covered. Then she heard Jake softly humming a tune she didn’t recognize. Then she felt every single ache and pain in her body, which seemed to be her entire body. She groaned.

“Ah, she awakes,” Jake announced, sounding pleased and perhaps slightly relieved. “How do you feel?”

The teen finally opened her eyes, struggling to sit up. Strong hands helped her, leaning her up against the warm scales of her dragon. “How long was I out?” Clarke asked.

 _Three days,_ was Skaiprisa’s reproachful answer.

“That long?!”

“Yes, you took quite the nap, kid,” Jake chuckled. “But your first experience with magic will do that to you.”

“Magic?” Clarke said in disbelief. She’d used magic? She vaguely remembered the blue flames, and shouting a word that was unfamiliar, but magic?

“To put it crudely, yes. But not magic such as sorcerers and hedge witches use,” Jake explained. “You spoke truly. The Elves call it Trigedasleng, and they and all Riders were able to call upon its power. Very few Riders discovered it organically, as you did. Most had to be pushed into it.”

“What can I do with it?” Clarke asked, fascinated. _Did you know about this?_ She asked her dragon.

 _I did not,_ Skaiprisa admitted. _But it will be useful in our hunt for Cage._

Jake’s eyes lit up. “Anything. Within reason,” he amended. “You are limited by your own body. To use magic to lift a rock would require the same amount of energy it would take you to lift it by hand. A pebble would be nothing – a boulder would kill you. And once you begin, there is no turning off the spell. It will be completed or you will die. There is no third option. Understand?”

Clarke nodded, trying to process. “I think so. Back in Nehorizo, when I was trapped, I said something.”

“ _Brisingr_ ,” Jake filled in. “The true name for fire. You called it, and it answered your need. But you used all of your strength in one blast. As you become more experienced, you’ll be able to better direct your power. We will begin lessons for that as well, which we can accomplish while we ride. Now come.” He grabbed a bowl from near the fire and handed it to her. “Eat. I managed to cross some distance while you were dozing, but we still have a week’s ride to Floudon.”

For that and the following days, intermixed with sword lessons with Jake and flying lessons with Skaiprisa, Clarke had lists of words to learn in a new language, with strict prohibition of actually using them for anything without supervision. The restrictions grated on the teen, but she understood the dangers Trigedasleng posed for someone as unfamiliar with it as she was. With all the lessons, the ride to Floudon flew by, and Clarke was soon greeted with her first sight of a large city.

“Welcome to Floudon,” Jake said with a small smile. “Home to the strange and unexplained – traders and merchants. Shut your mouth, kid. You’re drooling.”

Clarke glared at the older man. She was in a poor mood to begin with. She’d been trying to dream of the Elf woman since her first use of magic, but the prison had eluded her. Clarke was frustrated. She was worried that the girl had died, and that was why she could no longer find her. Also, Skaiprisa had been forced to take refuge outside the city to avoid being seen. All of that combined to make Clarke irritable without Jake’s teasing.

“Let’s just find this Kane man so we can get out of here,” she muttered. She wanted to go back to the wilds. It felt too exposed here.

Jake led her up and down bustling streets, past taverns, shops, and merchant stalls selling food to passerby. _How does he remember where he’s going?_ Clarke wondered at Skaiprisa. _It has to have been years since he was here last, and yet he seems confident._

Sure enough, Jake pulled Clarke down one last street, stopping in front of a nice looking town house. The building to its left looked identical, but it was the one on the right that caught Clarke’s eye. It was well kept, tidy, but obviously a shop of some kind – rather than a residence. It seemed out of place with the rest of the street. Bunches and bundles of leaves and branches hung from every window on all three stories. Clarke thought she could see a mangy looking black cat in one window pane. There was no name on or by the door, but it was obviously an herbalist’s shop.

Clarke glanced over at Jake in time to catch him gazing at the shop too with something like nostalgia or loss in his eyes. Or perhaps longing. When he saw the teen looking at him curiously, he cleared his throat and dragged her up to the doorstep of the house next to the shop. He pounded on the door three times. Then three more.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” a man shouted from somewhere inside the house. A moment later, the door opened, revealing a well-dressed man with flecks of gray in his hair. “I’m sorry, but unless you –” he stopped short when he saw who his visitors were. Kane – Clarke assumed it was him – blinked, shook his head, blinked again. “Dragon’s blood,” he whispered. “Jake? You’re alive?”

Jake smiled easily. “It’s been a long time old friend.”

“Eighteen years with no contact, letting me think you were dead? That’s more than a long time,” Kane berated. “But come in, come in. Who’s the kid?” he asked as he ushered the travelers inside.

“Clarke was leaving home, and our paths ran the same, so we decided to travel together a ways,” Jake lied.

“And what brings _you_ here old friend? It must be important, for you to break your silence. Where have you been hiding all these years?”

Jake clapped Kane on the shoulder. “That is something to be discussed in private. Come, Clarke,” he called over his shoulder.

Clarke shook herself from where she was staring at the shop next door again. She thought she’d seen someone in the window, gazing back at her. She followed the two men to a back room, where Kane shut the door behind them.

“I had Abby bespell this room against unwanted ears. It is safe to speak here,” Kane informed them.

“How is the witch?” Jake asked casually, but Clarke could see him tense slightly.

“Still working her visions. She’s cornered the market on fortune telling for the rich folk of Floudon. Buying the place next door was a fortuitous move. Abby’s repeat customers like not having to mingle with the common folk in the market.” Kane rolled his eyes.

“Is that who runs the shop next door? Abby?” Clarke asked quickly. “She has visions?”

“Leave well enough alone, Clarke,” Jake ordered roughly, sounding more ill-tempered with the teen than he had in weeks. “Can we stay here for a few days, Kane?” he changed the subject.

“Of course. I’ll just fetch a servant to show Clarke to a room.”

“Servants? You _have_ moved up in the world, Kane.” It almost sounded like Jake was teasing. Clarke didn’t think he knew how to do that.

“Almost twenty years is a long time, Silverhair,” Kane threw back. “Come, Clarke,” he gestured. “Let’s get you away from this Floater while you can still be saved.” Clarke followed Kane to a spacious bedroom on the second floor. As he left, he told the teen to call a servant if she needed anything before shutting the door behind himself.

As soon as he was gone, Clarke dropped her pack and began pacing. _He doesn’t trust us_ , she sent to Skaiprisa, who had been listening to the conversation through Clarke.

 _It would appear not,_ her dragon agreed.

 _How could he not? We have trusted him with everything that we are!_ Clarke exclaimed. _And we still know next to nothing about him._

 _Perhaps it is time we learned,_ Skaiprisa suggested.

_How would you propose we do that?_

_Do you remember how Jake reacted when Kane spoke of Abby?_ Skaiprisa replayed the memory for Clarke. _She may know something. The two of them seem to have a past._

 _Let’s do it,_ Clarke decided. She quietly made her way out of her room and to the stairs without running into any problems. But as she was heading for the door, she was intercepted by Jake.

“Clarke, I’ve explained to Kane about your experience with Reapers,” he began.

Startled, Clarke couldn’t reply.

“My wife, Callie, mysteriously disappeared on a trip to see her parents a few months ago. Everyone suspects Reapers these days when folk go missing. It seems like more are taken every day,” Kane explained.

“You know about Reapers?” Clarke was temporarily distracted, but she kept Abby in the back of her mind to speak to her when she was next free.

“Everyone here does,” Kane answered.

“Jake says he thinks they’re controlled by a Shade, and I know from someone else that there’s at least one wandering around Alagaesia.” Clarke wanted to keep the knowledge of the Elf woman to herself. For some reason, she regretted telling Jake about her in the first place. She felt like the Elf was important. Precious, somehow. And she didn’t need this absolute stranger knowing about her.

“That is the rumor, these days,” Kane admitted. “Jake has asked me for my help in research – it’s what I was good at back in the days when we ran together. I’ll help you in any way I can. Jake tells me you lost an aunt to those monsters.”

Clarke nodded. “When do we begin?”

* * *

Research was slow, boring work, and Clarke hated it. She did know how to read, as Nyko had taught her so she could label her vials and give the right medicines to patients, which Jake was grateful for. But still, research was moving at a crawl, and Clarke didn’t see how she was supposed to be much help when she didn’t know what any of the many scrolls Kane owned were even written about. She’d pulled out a few, and they were mostly about trade routes.

Jake and Kane were spending a lot of their time throwing arcane ideas back and forth. Jake _was_ taking at least a little time each day to teach Clarke more Trigedasleng, but only at night after Kane had retired. The rest of the time, Jake would hand the teen a few more scrolls in the morning to search through for any mention of Shades or Reapers before going off with Kane again.

Clarke spent most of her time doodling sketches of the Elf girl instead of actually reading. It was the first time Clarke had felt like drawing since Aurora had died, and she didn’t question the compulsion she felt to draw the mysterious woman. The woman didn’t look any older than her, but according to Jake, she could have lived hundreds of years by now. She showed Jake a sketch of the Elf one night, and she thought she saw recognition on his face, but it was gone in a flash. Clarke’s suspicions of Jake’s past were growing.

Finally, after nearly a week of being bored out of her mind, Jake let Clarke go for the day. “Go have some fun, you’ve earned it,” Jake told her with a rare piece of praise. “Get some fresh air,” he said meaningfully.

With a delighted grin, Clarke was out the door in a shot, running for the gates leading out of the city. _Prisa!_ She yelled. _Where are you?_

 _I am here, Klark._ Skaiprisa sent her Rider a mental image of the cave she’d holed up in.

 _I’m on my way,_ Clarke told her. Her dragon responded with a happy growl. Clarke was there in no time at all, throwing herself onto Skaiprisa’s back as they both basked in the joy of being reunited. _I don’t like not seeing you all the time. I haven’t been with you in days,_ Clarke complained after they had caught up on what each had missed in the other’s lives.

 _I do not enjoy it either, Klark, but there will be times when we must be separated – as Jake said,_ her dragon replied. _We will fly together again soon._

Reassured, Clarke spent the next few hours talking with Skaiprisa and reveling being in her company again. _I wish I didn’t have to go back and that I could just wait for Jake out here with you,_ she said mournfully in the early afternoon.

 _I would like for you to remain here as well, Klark, but this is a perfect opportunity for you to speak with Abby. Jake does not expect you back before sunset,_ Skaiprisa reminded her.

Clarke nodded. _I know. I was thinking about that too. Will you be okay?_

Her dragon’s laugh was like bells in Clarke’s mind, making her grin. _I will be fine, little one. The question is: will you be?_

Clarke huffed, making Skaiprisa laugh again. “See if I come visit you again,” Clarke threatened with no heat. “All right, then. Time to go talk to this Abby.” With a long farewell, Clarke left her dragon and made the long walk back to the gates of Floudon, trekking her way to Kane’s street.

Instead of going back to Kane’s house, Clarke walked up the path to the shop and entered it. Soft chimes sounded as the door shut behind her. She looked around, but there was no one in the room. “Hello?” she called.

_Welcome, Clarke._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke has negative chill

Clarke started and spun around, looking for the source of the voice. _Skaiprisa, was that you?_ She asked.

_I said nothing, little one._

The blonde glanced around the shop again, catching sight the same mangy black cat that she’d seen through the window when they’d first arrived in Floudon. She reached out as she had with her horse, seeing if she could communicate with it despite Jake’s warning.

_There is no need for that, I can speak just fine on my own,_ the voice said again.

“Huh?” was Clarke’s intelligent reply.

_I expected more from a Dragon Rider. Shouldn’t your dragon have picked someone smarter?_

“Hey! If you’re going to insult me, you might as well show yourself,” Clarke retorted, losing her temper. “Who are you?”

The cat leapt down from the counter and sat down in front of her. _I have many names, Clarke Wanheda, but you may call me Jackson._

Clarke looked down at the cat in surprise. “You’re the one talking? But you’re just a –” She stopped. She’d heard stories of creatures, but she’d thought they were myths. “Are you a werecat?”

She could _feel_ the smugness pouring off of Jackson. _Indeed, Dragon Rider. Good for you. Perhaps there is hope for you yet._

“I didn’t know there were any left,” Clarke said in awe.

_I don’t expect a farm girl such as yourself would,_ Jackson replied. _However, be alert, and you may yet learn a few things._

At that moment, a woman walked in. She stopped short when she saw that Jackson was not alone in the shop. The black werecat wound his way between the woman’s legs, purring loudly. She looked down at him, seeming surprised. “Jackson says you two had a conversation. He doesn’t speak to customers very often,” she told Clarke. “I’m Abby.”

“Clarke,” the blonde replied.

Abby nodded. “Yes, Jackson informed me.” She began rummaging around underneath her counter. “Can I help you find anything? Love potion, truth tincture, healing herbs? I never guarantee that my potions work, but people seem to keep coming back for them, so there you have it.”

“No, I don’t have any money,” Clarke denied politely. “I actually wondered if I could ask you a question.”

“You could, whether you may is probably what you want to know, though.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “All right. _May_ I ask you a question?”

“Of course,” Abby allowed distractedly, staring at a pouch she had picked up.

“I got in just a couple days ago, we’re staying at Kane’s house next door to here,” Clarke began.

“Yes, I saw you arrive,” Abby interrupted. “So cloudy, your mind, is it not, Clarke?”

“Let me guess, Jackson told you that too. But listen – I was curious – the man I’m traveling with, Jake, he’s the storyteller from my village, but he seems to know you. And he knows a lot of things he shouldn’t, really. I was wondering if you could tell me anything about him?” Clarke asked nervously.

The last thing she was expecting was for Abby to laugh dryly. “Oh, child,” she began. “Better to leave the topic alone than ask about that Floater. His fate has always been a rather unfortunate and curious one, and you would be better off away from that old man.”

Clarke narrowed her eyes at this presumptuous stranger. “Who are you to speak poorly of him? He’s saved my life more than once since we began journeying together, so unless you actually have something useful to say, I’ll be on my way,” she said angrily, turning to leave.

“Peace, Clarke,” Abby called after her. “I meant no ill will towards Jake. He is certainly an interesting character, but he would not like me spilling his secrets for him. Only Jake can pick his own time of telling.”

Clarke faced Abby once more. “So you know something, but you won’t say? Can you tell me what I can expect with him? Because he doesn’t seem to trust me with anything.”

“If he travels with you, then he places much trust in you,” Abby revealed. “And Jake would also have to like you to put up with you, and he doesn’t enjoy many people’s company, so I would consider yourself in his high esteem.”

The teenager sighed, frustrated. _This was a bust,_ she muttered to Skaiprisa.

_Maybe try again?_ Her dragon suggested.

_She’s weird, I’m not sure I want to stick around much longer,_ Clarke admitted.

“Yes, Jackson, that is true,” Abby spoke up, startling Clarke.

“I’m sorry?” Clarke inquired.

“Jackson was just reminding me of the last time he spoke to someone who came into my little shop,” Abby explained. “Years and years ago, now. I told his fortune – don’t think he liked what he heard all that much. I can offer the same to you.”

“I – I don’t know,” Clarke hesitated. “I don’t think my future’s something easy to read, right now.” She glanced at the crystal ball sitting on the counter.

Abby followed her gaze. “Oh, that’s just a prop,” she scoffed, leading Clarke into the back room and went over to a set of drawers, pulling out a pouch. “I haven’t used these since that time, almost twenty years ago, now.” The older woman dumped the contents of the pouch into her palm, holding it out for Clarke to see.

“Are those –”

“Knucklebones of a dragon,” Abby confirmed. “These foretell truly, unlike most things. Would you like me to cast them for you?”

Clarke thought about it for a moment before shrugging. “Why not?”

Abby rolled the bones between her palms before allowing them to drop onto the table. Clarke watched interestedly, but the pattern they created made no sense to her. Abby was silent for a long while, staring at the bones pensively. “Well?” Clarke asked.

“You were right about your future being shrouded. I have never had a reading this difficult and convoluted before,” Abby admitted. “Are you sure you’re human?”

Clarke fidgeted uncomfortably. “Yeah,” she answered, not at all sure that she still was, now that Skaiprisa was in her life. “If you can’t do it, just tell me that so I can leave.”

Abby scowled. “I said it was difficult, child, not impossible. See, most people have pretty simple lives. They’re born, they live, they die. Maybe they fall in love somewhere in there, maybe an adventure or two, but that’s it. Same basic formula, over and over again. You, on the other hand – I have never seen someone with so many _choices_ before. And each more difficult than the last. Take this one,” she pointed at a bone off to the side. “It means long life. Not too uncommon, but pair it with this one,” a bone with a circle carved into it, “and your life borders on unending.”

“That’s impossible,” Clarke tried to deny.

“I would agree, but the bones are never wrong. But that’s not even the interesting part.” She moved to two bones that crossed each other. “Betrayal by a friend, but fear not, while _you_ can do nothing, another may assist you in their return.”

_Who would betray me?_ Clarke wondered to Skaiprisa. The dragon merely sent a questioning noise back.

“And here, the death of someone very dear to you.”

“That already happened,” Clarke murmured, her mind automatically going back to how Aurora had died.

“But it’s not all dark. Here, you see,” she gestured at two bones that were lying nearly parallel to each other, but bent just slightly inwards so their very tips brushed against one another. “You will have one great love – the kind they tell stories about for centuries – perhaps not entirely conventional, and hard sought. To pursue that choice will lead to great danger. But such a reward.”

For some reason she couldn’t explain, Clarke’s thoughts immediately went to the Elf woman lying in a prison cell somewhere. She shook her head. It wasn’t even certain that the girl was real and not just a figment of Clarke’s imagination. It couldn’t be her.

“If you remain on that path, you will end with everything – or nothing. There is an equal chance of either. Choose a different way, and your future becomes unclear,” Abby finished, standing abruptly and swiping the bones off the table and back into the pouch.

Clarke stood shakily, more than a little disturbed by everything she’d heard. She mumbled out a thanks, and walked as quickly as she could to the door.

“Wait!” Abby called after her. Clarke winced and turned around. “You are still just a child. You think you’re grown, but you are still only a child. That fate should not be forced upon you,” Abby insisted, reaching for Clarke’s wrist.

The blonde Rider backed away, avoiding her touch. “I stopped being a child the day my aunt was murdered by monsters,” she snapped. Abby flinched at her words, and Clarke huffed in annoyance. “And I am getting tired of others acting like they’re hurt by pain that is mine alone.” She shook her head and went for the door again.

A hand tugging on her pack thrust her off balance. Abby removed it from her shoulders and went into another room with it.

“What, you’re a thief now?” Clarke protested, storming after her.

Abby waved her off, pulling out her herb and medicine box. “This is not sufficient for what your future promises. I can give you more.” She looked over at Clarke, and the teen saw an old hurt in her eyes. One she had seen in Jake’s eyes, from time to time. “Will you let me help you?”

Clarke nodded wordlessly. Abby left the room and Clarke considered making an escape and writing her kit off as a loss. But it was a gift from Nyko, and she didn’t want to leave it behind. Besides, Abby hadn’t acted like she wanted to _hurt_ Clarke, or anything. She was just a bit intense and creepy. So Clarke waited.

Five minutes later, Abby came back with a bag full of – _stuff._ She handed it over, and Clarke eagerly inspected it. Inside were vials of powders, small bags of herbs and leaves, and a few bottles of liquid, all meticulously labelled. “I – I can’t possibly afford this. It would cost a fortune,” she objected, although she wanted nothing more than to keep it. It was an extensive supply.

Abby waved her off impatiently. “Jackson likes you, and that’s good enough for me,” she said by way of explanation. “With what the fates have wrought for you, girl, you’ll need all the help you can get.”

“You can’t just give me a bag full of medicines probably worth their weight in gold and tell me you did it because your _cat_ likes me,” Clarke denied. “Why help me? Really?”

The older woman hesitated. “It’s cruel, what has to happen, sometimes. Not everyone deserves their fate, and for some people, their fate doesn’t deserve them. You are the former, I think, and I look forward to seeing how you meet it. Until then, I have a vested interest in keeping you alive. Your life may make for a very fascinating tale, someday,” she said mysteriously.

Clarke sighed. She was beginning to think Abby didn’t have a straight answer in her. “Well, I thank you, then,” she decided on. “I’ll try to live up to that future.” Once more, she went for the exit, but the black werecat blocked her path.

_Listen carefully and I will tell you two things. First, when the time comes and you are in need of a weapon, look under the Tree of Keryon Teina,_ he advised. _And second, when all seems lost and you are insufficient, Wanheda, go to the Rock of Soncha and speak your name to open the Vault of Souls._

Thoroughly disturbed, Clarke beat a hasty retreat, merely giving Abby a nod before slipping out into the reassuring light and sounds of the city.

\-------------------------------

When Clarke returned to Kane’s house after learning absolutely nothing more about Jake and a little uneasy at what she’d learned about herself, she was annoyed when a servant told her that Jake and Kane had requested to be left alone for the evening. She thanked the servant, but stormed up to her room, closing the door and pacing back and forth.

_I am getting tired of all these secrets,_ she complained to Skaiprisa.

_I as well,_ her dragon replied.

_If only we could just listen –_ Clarke stopped abruptly. _Wait!_ Jake had taught her a phrase in Trigedasleng to improve her hearing, which wasn’t exactly what she wanted, but she should be able to tweak it to suit her needs.

“ _Ai chil ain tombom krei sen in (I calm my heart so that I may hear),”_ she whispered, imbuing her words with the power inside her that was getting easier to reach for every time she used it. Then she waited.

Clarke could hear faint whispers at first, but then they began to fade out. Frustrated, Clarke threw herself back on her bed, groaning.

_“She’s not ready,”_ Jake’s voice sounded like it was right next to her.

Clarke jolted upright, eyes wide.

_“Isn’t that the Maunon’s job, though? Part of the agreement you described? The newest Rider trains with you before going to the Maunon to be taken by the Commander back to the Elves to complete her training?”_ Kane answered.

“ _Yes, but the Maunon will tear her apart, and I don’t even want to think of what the Queen would do. They’re too desperate for a savior, and Clarke can’t be that for them yet. Her first instinct is to look after everyone else and she forgets to take care of herself. She would rip herself to pieces trying to be what they need. Better she stays with me for a few months more, or even a year, if I can manage it,”_ Jake explained.

_“I suppose,”_ Kane said doubtfully.

“ _You saw the sketch Clarke drew. She’s an expert artist, and you can’t deny the resemblance,”_ Jake argued. _“If she’s seeing the Commander in her dreams, and she’s in as bad a shape as Clarke describes, then there may not even be a Maunon to go to.”_

Clarke flushed at Jake’s praise, but continued to listen intently when he continued speaking.

_“Besides, the kid wants revenge, and I’m inclined to help her with it. She deserves it after what happened to her aunt.”_

The spell faded out, but Clarke had heard enough to keep her thoughts occupied for days. _Did you get all that?_ She sent out.

_I did,_ Skaiprisa confirmed. _There is much Jake has not told us, but I think he has our best interests at heart. I say we trust him._

_Me too,_ Clarke admitted. _What about the Maunon, though? Do we go there?_

_I don’t think we’ll have much choice, someday. But for now, we need to continue learning, and Jake seems to agree with that. And there’s still the Shade to find._

_I can’t go there until I’ve avenged Aurora,_ Clarke vowed. _And we have to find that woman. The Commander, Jake called her._

_Yes, it appears she is even more important than we thought,_ Skaiprisa agreed.

_I want to be gone from here._ Clarke itched now at the delay. They were learning nothing useful about the Reapers here in Floudon, and Clarke hadn’t found anything about Cage, either. Just a few mentions of Shades and their devastating power and how one should never ever approach one unless they wished to die painfully. Which did not boost her confidence at all.

That night, after speaking with Jake, he decided that they would leave early the next morning. They would be safer on the road. Feeling relieved, Clarke went to bed after sharing the good news with Skaiprisa.

Dreams skittered across her mind, barely touching Clarke before rippling away. A ship sailing down a river with figures dotting the deck – Octavia pounding angrily on an anvil, Lincoln watching worriedly from across the room – two dragons circling each other in the sky.

Last, Clarke saw the Elf. The Commander. She was chained in the same cell Clarke had seen her in more than once, a shaft of moonlight slanting across her face as she knelt on the cold ground. Her wrists were rubbed raw, probably from yanking against her shackles. Clarke watched a single tear streak down her cheek before that dream too, faded, and darkness took its place, leaving the blonde in peace.

\-----------------------------------------

The next morning, Clarke and Jake packed their belongings back into their saddlebags and readied their horses. Clarke was excited to finally be on the move again. Skaiprisa shared her happiness, ready to leave her cave.

“Where will you head?” Kane asked as they led their horses to the gates of Floudon.

“I want to try for Hydron,” Jake replied. “It’s at a crossroads, and known for its unfriendliness, so the Shade may have travelled past there in search of more fodder for its Reapers. It’s as good a place as any to continue looking.”

_Skaiprisa, we’re almost there,_ Clarke sent out, letting Jake and Kane’s conversation blur out. _Once we’re out of sight of Floudon, we can fly together again._ Her dragon sent a wave of joy at Clarke’s news.

Saying their good byes to Kane took a few minutes, especially with Jake, but soon enough they were on their way. A few miles down the road, Clarke slid off her horse and tossed the reins to Jake before taking off at a dead sprint. _Prisa!_ she bellowed, calling with her mind loud enough to upset a flock of sparrows in a tree near her.

A roar met her as her dragon dove into sight from above the clouds, only sweeping her wings out at the last minute to stop her descent. Clarke ran to meet her, throwing her arms around Skaiprisa’s muzzle.

_Let us fly,_ Skaiprisa urged her Rider, practically prancing in excitement. Clarke tugged herself into her saddle, and the instant she was stable, Skaiprisa took off. Clarke shrieked in the joy of being airborne once again, hardly believing that she had ever been scared to do this.

After an hour of dips, dives, and barrel rolls, Skaiprisa leveled off into a more leisurely flight. Clarke had to take a few minutes to catch her breath. _You’re getting better at those,_ she complimented. Her dragon sent a feeling of smugness back, preening. _I don’t want to be separated from you for that long again,_ she continued.

Skaiprisa gave her an agreeing hum. _I worry when I cannot see you, little one. When you are in those boxes filled with people, I cannot aid you. It gives me much…anxiety,_ she admitted quietly.

Clarke rubbed her neck comfortingly. _I know. I’ll try to get Jake to avoid cities and towns until Hydron so we can be together._

\----------------------------------

After Skaiprisa had finally brought Clarke back down to the Ground following hours of flight and darkness had fallen, Clarke waited for Jake to throw a stick at her so he could beat her up with it some more. To her surprise, he made no move to even get up, seemingly deep in thought.

Finally, Clarke brought it up. “Aren’t we going to spar tonight?” she asked.

“Yes,” Jake assented after a moment’s silence. “But not with staves. You’ve improved past the need for them.”

“Then – what are we going to use?” she wanted to know.

“That is what I have been thinking on. Here.” Jake finally moved, pulling a wrapped object out of his saddlebag and tossing it to her. “This is yours, now.” Clarke carefully unwrapped what was obviously a sword. As she unsheathed it, she gasped.

While the hilt was unassuming, the blade was a pure white. It appeared as though it glowed in the darkness, but Clarke thought that might just be the fire reflecting. “It’s beautiful,” she told him. “Where’d you get it?”

“Her. And that is a long and gruesome tale I don’t particularly feel like telling. Let’s just say it was with much difficulty and people died. Her name is Azswis, and she belonged to a Rider once.”

“Ice Blade,” Clarke murmured.

“You _are_ paying attention,” Jake approved. “From now on, we will spar with swords. You will need to relearn the weight and the grip.”

Clarke nodded, eager to get started.

Their days fell into a pattern again after that. Morning rides were lessons in Trigedasleng. After midday, Clarke switched off riding with Skaiprisa or learning strategy from Jake. At night, she learned how to fight with a sword.

Jake told her that Hydron was a three week ride away, but it was in Shenzen, two weeks down the road, where everything went to hell.

\-----------------------

After yet another long day of lessons and training, Clarke fell exhausted onto her pallet. Skaiprisa was off hunting a few miles away for the night, and Clarke missed her warmth surrounding her. Without it, she had a difficult time getting to sleep, only managing it after an hour of tossing and turning.

The dream came to her immediately.

She easily recognized her surroundings now, used to showing up randomly in the prison cell. The Elf was on the floor still, but unchained this time. Clarke’s eyes narrowed and she rushed to kneel beside the woman when she saw the brunette was panting and sweating profusely.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” she asked hurriedly, careful not to touch the Elf. She didn’t want to wake any time soon. She was relieved when the other girl’s eyes fluttered open.

“You again,” the woman muttered, sounding resigned.

Clarke smiled gently. “Yes, me again,” she agreed. “I introduced myself last time I was here, but I don’t really think you were paying attention. I’m Clarke.”

She waited for a long time, and was about to give up when, “Lexa,” the Elf spat out.

“The Commander?” Clarke guessed. She was glad to finally have a name to put to the Elf’s face.

Lexa’s eyes snapped to hers. “Who told you that?” she asked harshly, still breathing heavily.

“The man I’m traveling with, Jake. Can you tell me where you are? Skaiprisa and I are going to come and get you,” Clarke promised.

“Jake?” Lexa shot up to a sitting position, hissing painfully as she did so. Clarke wanted to assist, but refrained. “You are with Jake? You are Drago-”

Clarke was woken abruptly, torn from her dream. “Hey-” she began to protest but was cut off by a blow to the head. Stunned, she fell silent, trying to get the ringing out of her ears. She looked up to see four men surrounding her and Jake a few feet away, bound, gagged, and unconscious. Skaiprisa was nowhere in sight.

“The Princess finally awakens,” one of the men sneered. “Were you off in dreamland, little girl?”

Clarke snarled and tried to get to her feet, but was knocked back down when another one punched her. She groaned as she felt her cheek split open and begin to bleed.

“Are you sure she’s the one Cage wants?” a third asked. “She’s too weak for a dragon to hatch for her.”

“She matches the description,” the first speaker – the leader – confirmed. “The bounty for bringing her in will keep us rolling in gold for years.”

_Skaiprisa_ , Clarke remembered in dread.

_Klark, I’m coming,_ was her dragon’s response.

_NO!_ Clarke shouted. _No, you have to stay away from here! They’ll kill you!_

_They are no match for me,_ Skaiprisa replied grimly.

_Prisa, please. If they were able to take Jake by surprise, they have to have some kind of magic working with them, and they mentioned Cage. They’re working for him. I can’t lose you,_ Clarke begged.

Skaiprisa hesitated. _I am above you, Klark. If they make one move to hurt you again, they will not live long enough to make a second._

“Answer me when I’m talking to you, Princess!” Clarke felt a boot impact her stomach, and she choked as all the air left her lungs.

_KLARK!_

_I’m okay,_ she wheezed back. Another one caught her in the mouth. _Not yet._ She could feel Skaiprisa vibrating with indecision.

“Why don’t you call your dragon, Princess?” Clarke caught the next boot aimed at her and twisted it, sending her torturer crashing to the ground with a painful grunt. She leapt on him as she pulled out the hunting knife she kept in her boot, stabbing him in the gut before the other three could stop her.

The man screamed as she yanked the blade down, ensuring he would never rise again. Blood spilled over her hands and arms. Two hands roughly picked her up and threw her to the ground. “You’ll pay for that, you bitch,” the leader growled, pulling the knife out of the dying man and turning to her. Clarke sat up as best she could, wiping blood from the corner of her mouth. “Some say that when a Rider dies, the last thing she hears is the dying screams of her dragon,” the leader mused, spinning the knife in his hand. “Do you think that’s true?”

Clarke spat blood at his feet in answer.

The man’s face tightened in anger and he hurled the knife. Clarke prepared for it to hit, but she was pushed bodily aside as Jake threw himself into her, the blade finding home in his stomach instead with a soft thump. He groaned and collapsed.

“JAKE!” Clarke screamed.

A lot of things happened at once, then. An arrow flew out of nowhere and hit the man furthest from Clarke in the throat. He dropped without a sound. Skaiprisa roared in anger and dove from the clouds, grabbing the second man in her teeth and bounding away as his screams echoed.

“ _Yu wan op_ (You will die),” Clarke snarled at the leader, the only attacker left. He appeared terrified – he had reason to be. “ _Brisingr!_ ” She shouted, throwing all of her power into the word and trusting it to know what she needed.

Sure enough, blue fire burst from the ground beneath the man and consumed him in seconds, leaving nothing in its wake. He didn’t even have to time to scream before he was gone. As if he never existed.

Clarke sagged, drained, but pulled herself together to go to Jake. He was panting, hands surrounding the wound that was leaking blood sluggishly. She knelt down next to him, cursing. She gently moved his hands away from the area. “Hold still,” she murmured. Jake nodded, not saying anything. Clarke carefully removed the knife and held her hand over his stomach. “ _Laks, fis op,”_ she muttered, piecing together the Trigedasleng she knew to roughly say, ‘Heal wound’.

For a second nothing happened, and Clarke despaired, but then new skin grew from the jagged hole and sealed together. She sighed in relief as Jake’s breathing eased slightly. Clarke immediately went to get the medicine kit Abby had given her, searching for a powder that she knew would ease the pain. She didn’t know if her words had healed all of Jake, or just the surface. Only time would tell.

A branch snapping caught Clarke’s attention and she snatched her bow and quiver, drawing back an arrow to rest at her chin. “Show yourself!” she snapped.

A woman stepped into the clearing, her own bow held over her head and her other hand raised in a gesture of peace. “Don’t shoot, Dragon Rider,” she said dryly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Cage Wallace is still a Shade, so he’s bad, obviously, but I couldn’t pass up the use of Maunon and Mountain Men in place of the Varden, since they literally live inside a mountain. It was too perfect. So Maunon equals Varden and are good. But not Cage.


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa finally meet (sort of)

Clarke kept her bow drawn, eyeing the woman suspiciously. “Who are you?” she asked.

“Anya. I’ve been tracking those men for a while. I shot him.” She indicated the man with the arrow in his neck.

Clarke let her bow drop slightly as she assessed the woman. Anya was taller than her, four or five years older, and had dirty blonde hair. She carried a pack along with a quiver, and had a sword sheathed at her waist. “Why would you help me?” Clarke inquired, not convinced.

“They’re mercenaries for Cage,” Anya spat. “They’ve basically taken over Shenzen while doing his dirty work. People keep disappearing, and I’m trying to put a stop to it. Now, are you going to shoot me, or can I put my hands down?” she asked, reverting to a blasé tone.

Making a decision, Clarke lowered her bow. _Skaiprisa, where are you?_

_Above you._

Clarke glanced up, smiling in relief when she saw her dragon descending toward camp. _The soldier?_

_His fight is over,_ Skaiprisa confirmed.

The blonde nodded. She turned back to Anya, whose eyes were shining as she watched Skaiprisa land. It was the first real emotion Clarke had seen on Anya’s face. “Anya, this is Skaiprisa. Skaiprisa, Anya.”

Anya nodded her head, casting her eyes down. “It is an honor to meet you, Skaiprisa,” she greeted reverently. “I never thought I’d see a dragon with my own eyes.”

_I like her,_ Skaiprisa told her Rider.

Clarke rolled her eyes. _Of course you do,_ she retorted. _You like anyone who compliments you._ The dragon only shrugged mentally, not denying it. “She’s glad to meet you too,” she told Anya. “Now, I need to figure out if I healed Jake or not.”

“How could you heal him? Do you have magic?” Anya asked quickly.

“Kind of. I’m still learning though. I know healing from my village, but herbs won’t save him from a knife to the gut.” Clarke hurried back to where Jake still lay propped up against a log, wavering in and out of consciousness. “I need you to grab that vial I was holding before you snuck up on me,” she ordered Anya. Surprisingly, the stranger obeyed without protest, handing it silently to Clarke. “And a canteen, please.” That was placed beside her moments later.

Clarke carefully poured a few sips of water into the vial, swirling it until all the powder was dissolved. “Jake. Jake, I need you to wake up,” she murmured. Jake groaned. “Please,” she begged. “Wake up, I have something that will help.”

Jake’s eyes flickered open and Clarke took the opportunity to pour the drink down his throat, making sure he swallowed. He choked a bit, but most of it went down. He faded back into unconsciousness after, his breathing easing slightly.

“I don’t see a wound,” Anya pointed out.

“I said some kind of healing spell, but I don’t know if it healed more than just the skin. He could have internal bleeding, his organs could be lacerated – anything could be wrong inside of him.” Clarke slammed the ground in frustration. “I don’t have the words! I haven’t learned enough!” she despaired. “I don’t know if I can save him.”

_Little one…_

“ _No_ , Skaiprisa!” Clarke yelled. “There’s nothing else I can do! This is my fault! Those soldiers were after me. They were going to kill me, and now Jake may die because he saved me.”

_Saved us, Klark. Saving you ensured that I live, as well,_ Skaiprisa reminded her.

“And what kind of sick joke is that?” Clarke demanded. “Why is your life tied to mine, but not mine to yours? How is that fair?!”

_That is the way things are, Klark. You cannot change them, so do not allow them to take over your mind,_ her dragon instructed. _Right now, you have both Jake and Anya to worry about, and that is enough._

Clarke sighed, knowing Skaiprisa was right. She took a few deep breaths, calming herself as she tried to think of what she needed to do next. She missed Jake’s advice already.

Anya first, she decided. Jake was taken care of, for the moment, as well as he could be. “What are your intentions?” she asked the older girl.

Anya shrugged. “Well, I had been thinking of leaving Shenzen before those soldiers distracted me,” she said. “They man the prison in town, and there’s word they’ve been having problems with a high value prisoner. I guess Cage decided to make a personal visit and get the information out of them himself. I wanted to get out before a Shade got thrown into the mix.”

Clarke froze. “Cage? Cage is coming here?” she asked eagerly.

“That’s the rumor,” Anya confirmed. “Why?”

“Do you know who the prisoner is? Is she an Elf?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

_Skaiprisa, do you know what this means?_ Clarke said quickly.

_The Commander may be in Shenzen._

_I promised her I’d get her out of there. But Jake needs me…_ A light slap to the side of her head startled Clarke. She glared at Anya, who just smirked down at her. “What?” she snapped.

“I know I can’t understand ‘dragon’, but if you’re going to talk to Skaiprisa with me standing right next to you, would you be so kind as to say your piece out loud so I can try to follow the conversation?” she requested dryly.

Clarke flushed. Her silent conversations with her dragon had never bothered Jake. She hadn’t thought about what it would feel like for an outsider. “Sorry,” she apologized. “I’ve been having these dreams – Jake said they were visions – of this woman. An Elf. Her name’s Lexa, and she’s a prisoner of Cage. They’re _torturing_ her, and I promised I’d come for her. If Lexa’s in Shenzen, I can’t leave her to die. Not even if Cage is there.”

Anya shook her head. “You’re a crazy _branwada_ girl, you are,” she muttered.

“I understand if you want to get as far away from me as you can,” Clarke offered. “I wouldn’t blame you.”

“Traveling with you certainly wouldn’t be boring,” Anya said after a long pause. “And I have nothing better to do. Besides, Elves are about as rare as dragons these days. Always wanted to meet one of them, too. I’ll help you, Clarke.”

* * *

“So what’s your story, Clarke?” Anya asked as the younger girl soaked a cloth in cold water to try and soothe the fever that Jake had developed a couple hours later. “How did you manage to get ahold of a dragon egg, let alone have it hatch for you?”

Clarke shrugged. “It just appeared one day while I was sketching in the mountains,” she explained. “Just exploded out of thin air – knocked me from a tree,” she admitted ruefully. Anya chuckled. “I thought it was a pretty stone, maybe worth something. No one wanted to buy it, and one night, Skaiprisa hatched. I don’t know why she chose me.”

_Because you contain strength and will and heart you cannot see yourself, little one,_ Skaiprisa assured her. _Every child that touched my egg before you wanted me to hatch for them so they could be special. You did not know what I was, but you loved me even before I came from my egg._ _You have the purest soul I have ever felt, and yet the strongest one._

Clarke sent a wave of affection to her dragon that was returned immediately. “I raised her in secret for a few months, but while I was gone one afternoon, Reapers came,” Clarke went on grimly. “They burned my farm, murdered my aunt, and almost killed me. My cousin wasn’t there, thank the gods. Skaiprisa came to my rescue and we killed the Reapers. But I swore revenge on the thing that sent them. Jake discovered Skaiprisa and me, and he offered his assistance. Skaiprisa and I figured out that Cage was responsible for the Reapers’ creation, so we vowed to kill him to avenge Aurora,” she finished.

Anya handed over another cold rag for Clarke to use on Jake. “I am sorry,” she said sympathetically.

“What about you?” Clarke changed the subject. “How did you end up out here in the middle of nowhere on your own?”

Anya’s face grew stony. “I was born in a castle frequented by Thelonious,” she replied emotionlessly. “One day, I made my escape, and people died. I won’t say any more on it.”

Clarke let the topic drop.

* * *

“Clarke,” the quiet whisper came from Jake in the middle of the night. It had started raining a few hours before so his call was barely audible, but Clarke had never gone to sleep, so she heard.

The blonde scrambled over to his side. “Jake!” Relief washed over her. He was okay. “What do you need?”

The older man grunted. “My hand,” he muttered.

“Your – hand?” Clarke was confused.

“Take – the glove – off,” Jake ordered.

Clarke glanced down at the glove on Jake’s left hand. She’d never really noticed it before. But she obeyed, tugging it off gently, and gasped when a white symbol identical to her own was revealed. Unlike hers, though, it was dull. “You’re a Dragon Rider,” she whispered.

“Was,” Jake corrected with a wheeze.

“Where is your dragon?”

“She died many years ago.”

A cavernous feeling of despair filled Clarke when she thought of how she’d feel if she lost Skaiprisa. “That’s how you knew what I was – about Prisa,” she realized.

Jake nodded. “You and she have grown – to be everything the Dragokru – used to represent,” he praised her. “You are both strong, and intelligent – and loyal. And I can die knowing you will protect – each other.”

“No! You can’t die, Jake!” Clarke cried. “No, I’m going to fix this. I’m going to help you, all right?” The healing spell must not have been enough. He had to be bleeding internally. Clarke dug through her lessons, trying to come up with a solution.

Jake shook his head. “I’ve been waiting to see her – for decades. _Ain Skaiprisa (My Sky Princess)_. You do not – need me. It’s all right, kid. You take Prisa – you go to the Maunon. They will teach you more. Here –” He managed to take off the silver bracelet with the inset sapphire and held it out. Clarke took it with trembling fingers, trying to hold back tears as she slipped it onto her own wrist. “Keep that for me. It means – you can be trusted.”

Clarke couldn’t keep from crying anymore. “I’m so sorry,” she got out. She wasn’t enough.

Jake reached out and cupped her cheek. The teen leaned into the touch desperately. “It’s not your fault, kid,” he promised. “You take care of her,” he told Skaiprisa.

_You have my word, Eldgona (Old Warrior)._

“Jake, please,” Clarke begged.

“Listen to me. Your instincts will – tell you – to take care – of everyone else – first.” Jake was obviously struggling, but he continued. “But be careful. Promise me.”

Clarke choked down a sob. “I promise,” she managed. “Please, Jake.”

But Jake was past hearing. Clarke broke down, kneeling over his body. Skaiprisa lowered her head to nudge her Rider, but Clarke didn’t respond, lost in her tears. _Little one_ , the dragon said mournfully, unsure how to make Clarke hear her.

“Clarke.”

The blonde ignored whoever was calling her.

“Clarke, you need to stop this. Clarke.”

Anya sighed when she still got no response from the weeping teen. “Don’t eat me for this,” she warned Skaiprisa. She scooped up a handful of mud and flung it in Clarke’s face. The blonde sputtered, trying to get the wet dirt out of her eyes. Anya silently handed her a cloth. Clarke wiped her eyes and face, glaring at Anya when she could see again.

“What the hell was that for?” she demanded, now angry instead of mourning.

“You are not the only person to ever lose someone close to you,” Anya said bluntly. “Wake up, Dragon Rider. We do not have time for you to fall apart. Those men could have reinforcements coming tomorrow. So it’s time for you to decide – what are you going to do next?”

Clarke was quiet for a few moments, her brow furrowed. When she looked back up at Anya, her gaze was fierce. “I’m going to burn Jake, and then I’m going to find Lexa. And then I’m going to tear that prison down around Cage’s ears,” she snarled.

“It’s pouring rain, Clarke,” Anya pointed out. “And someone may see.”

“I don’t care. And I can do it.” _Skaiprisa, will you help me_? She asked silently. _I’m still weak from before._

_Of course, Klark._

“You’re not doing it tonight,” Anya told her. “Get some sleep while you still can.”

Clarke opened her mouth to protest, but Skaiprisa cut her off. _She is right, little one,_ she reminded the blonde gently. _You have not slept in many hours. And a fire will be less visible at dawn than now._ The dragon nudged at Clarke’s side with her muzzle until the teen had reluctantly crawled over to curl up beside Skaiprisa’s shoulder. Skaiprisa immediately covered Clarke with her wing, blocking the rain from hitting her.

Anya watched bemusedly with a strange smile tugging at her lips as Clarke was hidden from sight by her protective dragon. “Night,” she told Skaiprisa, who nodded regally. Anya covered Jake’s body with a blanket and took shelter under a tree for the rest of the night, letting Skaiprisa keep watch over both of them.

* * *

The next morning, Clarke watched stonily as her blue fire consumed Jake’s body. After, she gathered his ashes, climbed onto Skaiprisa’s back, and released them as her dragon flew. She thought Jake would appreciate it – being in the air again. It was the least she could do for the Rider.

When they landed, she and Anya began planning. Clarke soon became frustrated, thinking that Anya was being overly cautious. The older girl shot down idea after idea, seemingly just for the sake of being contrary. Finally, Clarke threw down her water canteen, fed up. “What is your problem?” she demanded. “You know the town, I don’t. It makes more sense for you to go in than me. I don’t even know where the prison is.”

Anya clenched her jaw. “My – face is known to the Empire,” she finally admitted. “Because of the circumstances of my birth, I could be recognized if I am arrested. Especially if the Shade is present.”

Clarke sighed. “All right. So it looks like I’m getting arrested. They already know I exist anyway, might as well declare my intentions,” she decided.

“You would need to be caught in a way that does not arouse their suspicions,” Anya advised.

“I’ll just go in poorly disguised – let myself be seen. I can play the village idiot,” Clarke told her.

_I do not like this, Klark,_ Skaiprisa worried.

“I know, Prisa, but we have to find out if the Commander is in that prison. Besides, it’ll give you the chance to rescue me, which I know you love doing,” Clarke managed to tease.

_If something happens to you, I will put you on my back and not let you off ever again._

Clarke grinned. “I love you too, Prisa.” At Anya’s questioning look, Clarke elaborated. “She’s worried.”

Anya nodded. “She should be. A Shade is nothing to trifle with. This plan is practically suicide. I do not know why I am letting you go through with it.”

“Because the Commander’s important, according to what Jake said.” Clarke felt a pang at the thought of her mentor, but she pushed on. “I think she’s vital somehow to the Maunon cause. Without her, they might not have a chance against Thelonious.”

“This plan will take extreme caution. I have friends in Shenzen, and I will not allow them to be punished for your recklessness. If you go in there with fire in your heart, you will start a war you won’t be able to end,” Anya warned.

“Anya, it’ll work,” Clarke assured her. “We’ll be fine.”

Anya didn’t look convinced, but she protested no more as they nailed out the finer points of their plan.

* * *

Clarke sauntered into the Shenzen with as much confidence as she could muster. She wandered up and down the streets, made sure her hood was down when she ordered a drink at the tavern, let others see her face when she browsed through a few shops.

She heard the whispers and noticed the stares, but pretended to be oblivious. Eventually, she began to make her way back out of town, hoping her and Anya’s plan had worked. She didn’t have to wonder for long.

A squad of ten soldiers marched out of an alley to block her path. Clarke glanced behind her and saw another ten that way. She drew herself up to her full height, trying to seem imperious. “What is the meaning of this?” she asked haughtily.

“Dragon Rider, you’re under arrest for crimes against the Empire,” one of the soldiers in front of her announced.

Clarke glared at them. A couple of the men glanced at each other, taking a nervous step back. “How dare you?” she growled. “Arrest a Dragon Rider? She raised her hands as though she were going to cast a spell on the soldiers. She wouldn’t, but she needed to be seen as a threat. Sure enough, a feeling of intense weight deadened her limbs, forcing them down and making her mind go fuzzy.

“I think that’s quite enough,” a smooth, male voice sounded from over her head. Clarke caught sight of a dark haired man that was so perfectly put together that she would call him handsome – if it weren’t for the pure, soulless evil she could see swirling in his jet black eyes.

He was the last thing Clarke saw before the world went dark around her.

* * *

Clarke clawed back to awareness slowly, fighting the near overpowering drowsiness that pulled her toward sleep. She groaned, turning over the shut her eyes again.

_Klark!_

The blonde startled, rolling out of the tiny cot she was in and onto the hard, stone floor. “Ow,” she grumbled into the ground. _What?_

_Klark,_ Skaiprisa said again, sounding relieved. _Anya was about to charge in after you, and I have been unable to contact you all night._

_I am unharmed, Prisa,_ Clarke reassured her. _What time is it?_

_Near sunrise,_ the dragon responded.

_All right. Tonight is when we’ll enact the plan then. Can you keep Anya from doing anything rash?_

_Perhaps. Be safe, little one._

_I will,_ Clarke promised, cutting the connection. If Cage was still around, he might be able to sense the mental conversation. She shielded her mind, much more proficient at it now than when she had first learned. She crawled back onto the cot and lay with her eyes closed, waiting for the morning to come.

A couple hours later, a tray was slid under her cell door without a word from the guard. Clarke eyed it warily. There was bread, cheese, and water on it, and Clarke was desperately thirsty, but it could be tampered with. She pulled the tray towards her and sniffed it cautiously. The food seemed all right, but the water had a faint scent that Clarke recognized from the kit Abby had given her.

The water was drugged. If ingested, it would deaden her mind, making her unable to use magic or think clearly. Clarke had taken the time between Jake’s lessons to memorize the scent, feel, and look of all the items Abby had given her for purposes such as this. She took the cup and dumped it out the barred window of her cell. The food looked and smelled untouched, but Clarke couldn’t risk it. Regretfully ignoring the rumble of her empty stomach, she threw that out the window as well.

Clarke resigned herself to a miserable day, grumbling as she sat down on her cot. She couldn’t even pass the time talking to Skaiprisa, just in case the Shade could sense it. She didn’t know if Anya would stick to the plan, or if the Commander was even here.

No guards bothered her. Every time one patrolled, Clarke pretended to be asleep to avoid their suspicions. Cage didn’t make another appearance, either. Clarke received another drugged meal at midday, which she immediately got rid of once more.

Finally, Clarke could see the shadows getting longer outside her window. _It’s time,_ she said quickly to Skaiprisa before cutting their connection again. She got to her feet and stole over to the door of her cell. Reaching with her power, Clarke pushed the mechanism that kept it shut out of its socket, and the door swung open easily.

The Rider cautiously exited her cell, looking both ways. She was at the end of a cell block, which made the decision easy. Clarke crept down the hall, peering into each cell as she passed, looking for the Commander.

Most of the cells were empty. Others held people that looked like beggars. None bore the slightest resemblance to the proud and broken Elf Clarke knew from her dreams. As she neared the end of the block, Clarke began to despair that the Commander wasn’t in this prison – that the risk would have been all for nothing.

In the very last cell, Clarke spotted a brunette curled up on the floor. Hardly daring to hope, she ‘pushed’ open the lock of the door and sped inside. Joy filled her when she saw Lexa’s face. The Elf’s eyes were closed, she was panting lightly, and her skin was covered in sweat, but it was her – and she was still alive.

Clarke gathered the woman into her arms, lifting her far too easily. They were apparently starving her as well. Anger ran molten within the blonde. The Shade would pay for what he’d done. _I have her,_ she informed Skaiprisa tersely. _She’s in bad shape, though. I’m taking her to the roof now._

_Anya will meet you on the stairs,_ her dragon replied immediately.

Clarke hurried to the second floor of the building, still carrying Lexa. No one had noticed her yet, as the second floor was mainly sleeping rooms for the guards, and they were all at supper. Clarke checked Lexa’s breathing, and it was still fast and shallow, her eyes flickering beneath the lids. Her arms and legs were a mess of cuts, and Clarke could feel the blood seeping from her back. The Elf needed help right away, but they needed to escape before Clarke could try to fix her.

Anya met her at the foot of the stairs to the roof. “I’ll get her to Skaiprisa,” she said as a greeting. “I made a harness for us to put her in so your dragon can keep her safe. I’ll come back once I’m done.”

“I have to find my weapons. Do you have Azswis?” Clarke asked. She had given the other girl her sword for safekeeping, going into Shenzen with only her bow and hunting knife. Those had been taken from her.

Anya handed the blade over without a word, eyeing it with distaste. “I’ll see you in a minute.” She disappeared up the staircase, Lexa cradled carefully in her arms.

Clarke pushed away any and all thoughts of Lexa. She couldn’t afford to be distracted for the next few minutes. She sprinted lightly back down to the first floor, sword secure in her grip. She followed the noise to a mess hall, where Clarke could see approximately ten soldiers seated at tables, still eating. A few more were milling around, chatting with their peers.

The Rider focused on the men standing, thinking back to her lessons with Nyko. If she extrapolated the anatomy lessons he’d given her, this should do the trick without wasting much of her energy. “ _Hod op, jus en klaka (Cease, blood and bone)_ ,” she whispered, concentrating. The four men stopped, hands reaching for their necks before they collapsed as the blood stopped flowing to their brains. Clarke breathed out hard, feeling sick. It had been too easy to do that.

The rest of the soldiers yelled in shock as their comrades fell. Clarke drew her sword, capturing their attention. Four more dropped to the same words before they were on her. Clarke dipped and whirled, Azswis a blur in her hands as she attacked on instinct. Jake had taught her well – she could anticipate every move, even when multiple men attacked her at the same time. She picked up a shallow gash on her leg and a slightly deeper one on her arm, but before long, the rest of the men lay dead at her feet.

Swallowing back bile, Clarke quickly left the mess hall and found a smaller room next to it that contained her bow and quiver. She strung those across her back and made her way back to the second floor. Disappointingly, there had been no sign of Cage, but Clarke had ensured that there would be no pursuit, either.

“Well, well,” a voice like ice said from behind her.

Clarke spun around, to be met with nothing but smoke. She glanced from side to side, wary. “Show yourself!” she demanded.

“ _Jierda_ ,” the voice snapped. Hard air slammed into Clarke, throwing her back against the wall. She grunted in pain, holding her newly bruised ribs protectively.

“I expected more.” Cage appeared right before her eyes, staring down at her in disdain.

Clarke spat at his feet. “That’s what everybody says,” she snarled, swinging her blade as she stumbled to her feet. The Shade disappeared in another cloud of smoke.

“Are you a coward?” she goaded. “Too afraid to fight me on even ground?”

Cage materialized with a snarl. “You wish to test yourself against me, Rider? Do you really think to defeat me?” He pulled a sword from thin air, and Clarke barely got Azswis up in time to block him. Their blades met with a clang, and Cage bore down, forcing Clarke to break away.

_Hells, he’s strong,_ she worried. She couldn’t use magic, for fear Cage would do the same, and he was far more powerful than Clarke. She could sense it.

Cage slashed at her ribs, and Clarke danced out of reach. _Now would be a really great time for a distraction,_ she sent to Skaiprisa, blocking another swing from the Shade as she did.

_Anya is on her way, little one. Hang on._

Clarke wasn’t sure she could last even a few more minutes against the clearly more skilled swordsman. Her fatal error was forgetting that Cage also had magic at his disposal, and she was sent flying into the wall again, this time losing her grip on Azswis. She groaned, dazed, reaching blindly for her sword. A foot stepped down on her wrist, keeping her still.

“As the Elves say,” Cage began menacingly, raising his sword with an evil grin. “ _Yu gonplei ste odon_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hang out a lot on Tumblr at 'fairytaleslayer' even if I should usually be studying. I have lots of Clexa and puppies on offer, and just general gay-ness.


	8. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke races to get Lexa to the Maunon, but they're not out of the woods yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the super long wait! I've had time for exactly two hours of writing between six exams in the last five weeks, and those both went to Fight Me, so this took a little longer than expected. Hopefully it's good to make up for it!

Clarke glared up at Cage, refusing to show him her fear. She would not die cowering in the corner of a prison, to be turned into an example – a warning against other rebellions.

As Cage brought his sword down for the fatal blow, an arrow split his forehead. The Shade’s eyes widened in shock before glazing over. The blade fell from his frozen hands, disappearing in a cloud of smoke before it could hit Clarke. Cage followed the sword, dissolving into thin air, revealing Anya on the staircase behind him, bow still held at chin height.

“What are you waiting for?” Anya called tersely when Clarke didn’t move right away. “We need to get out of here.”

Clarke gasped in a breath – it felt like her first in hours. She grabbed Azswis, stumbled to her feet, and ran for the stairs. Anya sprinted up them as soon as Clarke reached the first step, stopping at the landing to cover Clarke’s ascent. They could hear more soldiers across the building, finding their comrades’ bodies and searching for the killer.

“Skaiprisa’s in the sky over the roof,” Anya explained as they went up the last set of stairs. “We may have to jump for it if she can’t get close.”

Clarke gulped. Flying with Skaiprisa was one thing – jumping from three story buildings still did not appeal to her fear of heights. Nevertheless, she followed Anya to the edge. _Prisa!_ the blonde called.

_I am here, Klark._

_Take Lexa and go!_ Clarke ordered. _Anya and I will follow on foot._

_No, I –_

_Skaiprisa, now!_

With a roar, her dragon rose higher in the air and flew away from Shenzen, Lexa safely ensconced in a harness between her front legs.

“We’re jumping?” It sounded like it was supposed to be a question, but Clarke didn’t think Anya was actually asking.

“Yes,” she answered anyways. She glanced over at the ground nearly twenty feet below, then back where she could hear soldiers pounding up the stairs. “You first.”

Without hesitation, Anya tossed her bow and threw herself over the edge, tucking into a roll and coming up fairly unscathed. She grabbed the bow and aimed at the roof. “You’re turn. I’ll cover you,” she called.

Feeling sick to her stomach, Clarke leapt just as the men behind her reached the roof. Her roll was much less graceful than Anya’s, and the teen hissed in pain when she felt her wrist twist the wrong direction. She came up grimacing.

“What’s wrong?” Anya demanded, shooting an arrow at a soldier and hitting him in the shoulder.

“Sprained my wrist.”

“Is that all? Then let’s go!” Anya turned and ran for it, leaving Clarke to follow.

* * *

Clarke and Anya quickly outpaced the soldiers, Clarke letting the older woman direct where they were going. Anya led her to where she had left their horses saddled and ready to go near Shenzen’s border.

_Skaiprisa, stay in the air,_ Clarke ordered. _Anya and I are at the horses. Keep Lexa safe. Is she still alive?_

_Yes._ Her dragon sounded angry, but Clarke ignored it for the moment. There were more important things. _But she has not woken. Should she have woken by now?_ The question belied Skaiprisa’s ignorance with humans. She was intelligent, and had centuries of instinct ingrained in her, but she had met few people and was still unclear on how they functioned for the most part.

_She has a fever. She may not wake up for a while. I’ll take a look at her when it’s safe to stop,_ Clarke said as she pulled herself into the saddle.

Anya turned her horse and headed due south. She and Clarke had previously agreed that since they both had no idea where the Maunon had their base, apart from in the South, and the Wasteland would guarantee the end of the Empire’s pursuit, that was where they would go until they came up with a better plan. It was rumored that besides the Spine, the Wasteland was the one place Thelonious feared. The Sanskava were also known for their rebellion against Thelonious, using their superior knowledge to lose themselves in the sand. They did not harm the Empire, but nor did they bow to it. They had declared their independence in the middle of Thelonious’ Empire, and lived how they liked.

“Will the Sanskava allow us in the Wasteland?” Clarke called up to Anya.

“If we do not linger, we should be fine,” Anya answered. “They don’t like intruders, but they let a few people pass. We’re no threat, so they shouldn’t bother us.” She sounded unsure.

“Glad you’re confident,” Clarke muttered. “How far to the Wasteland?” she asked in a louder tone.

“Three days – if we kill our horses. Five if we give them some breaks.”

“We’ll do it in four,” Clarke decided.

Anya shook her head. “You really are a _branwada_ little _skrish_ , you know that?”

Clarke grinned. “Those are the only two words of Trigedasleng you know, aren’t they?”

“No. They were part of my – lessons,” Anya replied grimly. “They are the words Indra taught me, and the only ones I like.”

“Who’s Indra?”

“Dead.”

Clarke let the topic drop without another word.

* * *

Clarke and Anya pushed their horses as hard as they could and still keep them healthy. The first night, they stopped for four hours to rest. Skaiprisa landed next to them so Clarke could check on Lexa.

The Elf was still feverish, and had yet to wake. Clarke dug out a powder that helped reduce fever and poured it down Lexa’s throat in small sips, trying to keep the unconscious girl from choking. “Come on, Lexa. I can’t lose you too,” she pleaded quietly, not wanting Anya to hear.

Some of the drink spilled down Lexa’s chin, but Clarke managed to get at least half of it in. Next, she turned to the Elf’s physical wounds. Apologizing silently, she pulled Lexa’s shirt over her head, wincing in sympathy when it stuck to the sores in her back. The Elf gave no indication that she felt anything.

“ _Joken skrish!_ ” Clarke spat when she saw the extent of the damage done to Lexa.

Anya startled. “What?”

“Look at what they did to her!” Clarke waved at the numerous cuts, bruises, gashes, and burns driven into Lexa’s skin.

“Can you fix it?”

“I don’t have much choice,” Clarke said grimly. “Can you get some water boiling with rags? You can tear up my extra shirt. Also, there’s a large canister in my bag with a green paste in it. It prevents infection, and I’m going to need a lot of it.” Anya moved to do as the teen asked.

_Skaiprisa?_ Clarke ventured sheepishly. She knew she’d been short with and overbearing to her dragon today, but she was going to need help.

She felt a mental sigh. _Take what you need, Klark,_ Skaiprisa agreed.

Guilt swept over Clarke. _I’m sorry for how I spoke to you. We don’t order each other around, and I shouldn’t have started, no matter how urgent the situation. I apologize._ She could feel her dragon’s mood lift with her apology.

_You are forgiven, little one,_ Skaiprisa told her. _But even in the midst of battle, remember that we are one. All you have to do is ask._

Clarke hung her head shamefully. “I know,” she whispered. “I won’t forget again.”

With Skaiprisa lending her considerable strength, Clarke got to work healing Lexa’s hurts. She began with the burns, as those easily festered. “ _Laks, fisa op,_ ” she whispered over and over again. As opposed to Jake’s wound, Lexa’s were all on the surface, so Clarke’s rudimentary healing spell would suffice until they could get the Elf to somewhere safe.

Clarke was able to completely heal the burns. She spread the paste Anya handed her over where they had been, just in case, but she thought they would be fine. Next, she set to healing the deepest gashes. Clarke could make them shallower, but she and Skaiprisa were tired from the last few days, and she couldn’t get rid of them entirely. She cleaned them and the shallower cuts with the clean water Anya gave her, and spread the paste over them before wrapping them in extra rags. It would have to do.

Exhausted, Clarke rolled into her sleeping pad. “Wake me in a couple hours,” she muttered to Anya and promptly fell asleep before the older woman could reply.

* * *

The second day was much like the first. They stopped briefly at midday so Anya could sleep for an hour or two as she hadn’t the night before. Clarke kept watch. She wanted to work on healing Lexa some more, but Skaiprisa convinced her to wait until night and conserve her strength.

That night, Clarke healed the rest of the deeper cuts on Lexa’s back. The bruises were fading on their own, and the teen couldn’t feel any broken bones underneath the skin. The shallow cuts were healing slowly as well without Clarke’s assistance. She didn’t have the strength to tend to them, though she wanted to. The sight of them still marring Lexa’s skin made her irrationally angry. Working with the girl’s shirt off – Clarke tried not to look, but it was impossible not to – Clarke could see just how beautiful Lexa was. Without her injuries, the Rider thought that the Elf would be breathtaking.

“You have to wake up,” Clarke whispered to her.

* * *

By the third night, Clarke was frantic. Lexa had yet to wake up, and while Clarke was trying to give her water so she wouldn’t become dehydrated, she thought the Elf might start wasting away soon. She called an early stop and prepared to take more drastic measures.

“I’m going to try to talk to her,” Clarke told Anya as they set up camp in the cave they’d found.

Anya gave her a strange look. “She’s unconscious, Clarke.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “I know that, but I’ve been seeing her in my dreams for months without consciously trying to. I think I can reach wherever she is.”

The older woman shrugged. “Well, you said Skaiprisa told you we have half a day on those soldiers. If you’re going to do it, do it now.”

Clarke took a deep breath. “All right. This may take a while, so unless Skaiprisa starts panicking, don’t do anything to disturb me.”

“You got it, Commander.”

“I’m not the Commander. She is.”

“Suits you.”

Clarke shook her head, bemused. She went over and sat near Lexa, taking both her hands. _Stay close, Prisa_ , she requested.

_I am with you, little one._

With those reassuring words, Clarke delved deeper into her mind than she ever had before.

Recent events littered the surface of her thoughts. Clarke flinched away from her memories of Jake’s death. _Focus, Clarke_ , she ordered herself. She moved past it, looking for the connection she held with Lexa.

Finally, she found it. It glowed forest green in her mind, a strand of thought leading out from her and towards the Elf. Clarke gingerly grasped it.

Invisible hands wrapped around her throat, choking her. Clarke gasped, trying to free herself. The hands only tightened.

_Bants! (Leave!)_ Lexa’s voice sounded in Clarke’s mind. _Ai ban au ain baga! (I banish you, my enemy!)_

Clarke tore herself free from Lexa’s attack, shielding her mind against the Elf. _Lexa!_ She shouted. _It’s Clarke! It’s Clarke, Lexa! I got you out, you’re safe!_ There was no response, only scrabbling against her defenses despite how weak Clarke could tell Lexa was. Groaning, she tried to remember the correct words in Trigedasleng. It was impossible to lie in the true language, according to Jake, so the Elf would have to believe her then. Lexa was still spouting incomprehensible Trigedasleng at her when Clarke came up with the right words. _Leksa, chil au! Ai laik Klark en yu ste klir! Leksa! (Lexa, relax! It’s Clarke and you’re safe. Lexa!)_

The pounding against her defenses sputtered as Lexa took in her words. _Klark?_

Clarke grinned. _Sha, Leksa. Yu nou honon. Yu ste klir. (Yes, Lexa. You’re not a prisoner. You’re safe.)_

_Ai nou wich yu in (I don’t believe you),_ Lexa whispered.

_What can I say to make you believe me?_ Clarke muttered.

_She does not know of me,_ Skaiprisa spoke for the first time.

_Right!_ Clarke said excitedly. _Leksa – Oh, I don’t know how to say most of it in Trigedasleng. Lexa, do you remember me mentioning Skaiprisa to you and how we were coming to get you?_

_Sha,_ Lexa acknowledged, sounding suspicious.

_Ai laik Dragokru, Leksa. Skaiprisa ste ain drago. En yu nou honon. Osir breik yu au (I’m a Dragon Rider, Lexa. Skaiprisa is my dragon. And you’re not a prisoner. We broke you out),_ Clarke promised her.

_Dragokru?_ Lexa whispered.

Clarke let out a relieved sigh, smiling wide. _Sha, Leksa._

_It doesn’t matter,_ Lexa said, speaking in English for the first time before switching back to Trigedasleng. _Ai laik wan op (I’m dying)._

_Chit? Houkom? Ridiyo op! (What? Why? Tell the truth!)_ Clarke demanded, fearful. Lexa couldn’t die. She’d _fixed_ her. She’d done it right this time – she had to have done it right this time.

Lexa sighed. _Ste Wamplei. Ai kwelen (It is Death. I am weak)._

Clarke clenched her jaw, furious. _Yu gonplei_ nou _ste odon. Ai fisa, and you_ don’t get to die.

Clarke broke the mental connection and rushed over to her pack. “You’ve been under for over an hour,” Anya commented as Clarke searched frantically.

“It’s Lexa. They _poisoned her_ ,” Clarke spat angrily. “Wamplei.”

Anya paused. “That only has one cure, and it’s nowhere around here. Fayarein is one of the rarest plants of Alagaesia.”

“I have some,” Clarke answered shortly. “Thank you, Abby,” she whispered when she at last found the correct vial. Inside was a miniscule amount of liquid. She shot back over to Lexa. _Please work_ , she prayed before tipping it into Lexa’s mouth as carefully and quickly as she could _. I don’t know if it will be enough, Lexa_ , Clarke worried _. Jake said that you were involved with the Maunon. Can you show me where they are?_

For a second there wasn’t a response – then Clarke’s mind was flooded with images of canyons and rivers and desert until last, Lexa showed her a tall mountain with a waterfall. _They are within there,_ Lexa whispered. _Now go, Clarke. I must rest._

Clarke broke the connection, clutching her pounding head. Anya thrust a water canister under her nose, and the blonde gratefully drank it down. “We have to go,” she gasped out.

“Clarke, you need to sleep,” Anya protested.

“I’ll sleep on the horse. We don’t have a lot of time. Lexa showed me where the Maunon are – we’re already going in the right direction. Cage may or may not be dead – I’m guessing not – and he could send Reapers after us along with the soldiers already behind us. I have to get Lexa to help,” Clarke tried to make her understand.

Anya clenched her jaw. “The Maunon are no safer for me than anywhere else. I’d rather take my chances alone.”

“Please, Anya,” Clarke pleaded. “You’ve helped me and Skaiprisa so much, and you didn’t have to, but please. Just a while longer. Come with us. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“If I remember correctly, I’m the one that’s been doing the rescuing,” Anya corrected the teen with a small smirk. She sighed. “All right. I still don’t have anything better to do.”

Clarke grinned, holding out her hand. Anya grasped her forearm in a tight grip. “The Maunon, then?”

Anya nodded firmly. “The Maunon.”

* * *

Clarke and Anya fled across the desert relatively undisturbed. Clarke had not spoken to Lexa since the first time, but she gave her sips of water every night. The Elf still slept on, worrying the Rider. Finally, the fifth day after they spoke, Clarke tried to make contact again when she and Anya halted briefly to rest their horses in the hot sun.

Clarke went over to where Lexa lay near Skaiprisa, shielded by her wings. She took a deep breath and searched for that green tether between them. _Lexa?_

There was a long silence. Clarke was about to pull away when Lexa’s voice wavered through. _Chit, Klark? (What, Clarke?)_

_I need to know what’s wrong. I gave you the antidote, why haven’t you woken?_

Another pause. Clarke thought she could feel Lexa gathering herself, as if each word took enormous effort. _Ai kwelen. The poison, the Wamplei, had already set in me by the time you gave me the Fayarein. You have delayed the inevitable, but that is all. I cannot heal myself, and nor can you. I felt you before – you have great power, Clarke,_ Lexa told her. _But not enough skill for this kind of wound._

_Will the Maunon have the healers you need?_ Clarke asked desperately.

_Yes._ It was said on a sigh. Lexa was fading. _Until then, I must conserve my strength. That is why I sleep. And you must not contact me again. It drains me. Do you remember the way?_

_Yes, Anya and I think we’re close. Prisa recognized the canyon. I’ll leave, now. But – Beja, Leksa. Nou wan op (Please, Lexa. Don’t die)._

Clarke thought she could feel Lexa smile. _I will do my best, Clarke of the Sky._ She was gone.

The blonde pulled away with a sigh. _How much further, Prisa?_ she asked.

_A half day’s run for your puny animals,_ her dragon answered. _An hour’s flight for me. The soldiers are five hours behind you, but they are not speeding up. It is strange,_ she mused.

“Why would our followers not ramp up their pursuit?” Clarke asked.

“Either they’re not all that interested in catching us – and let’s face it, who wants to come up against a fearsome dragon – or they have laid a trap,” Anya answered. “I lay equal odds on either choice.”

“Great,” the teen muttered. “Skaiprisa, can you scout ahead, without Lexa being in danger?”

_Of course. If I find the entrance, should I take Lexa in?_

_No. I don’t want to risk them seeing you as a threat. I’ll have to be there with you so I can explain. I don’t want either of you getting hurt._

_I agree._ Skaiprisa took off without another word.

“We have to go. Now,” Clarke told Anya.

“Why?”

“Skaiprisa is going to look for the entrance, but we need to be there when she finds it. The Maunon may not take too kindly to a twenty foot long dragon barging through their mountain,” Clarke explained.

Anya cursed. “Fine. Let’s go, then.”

Clarke and Anya raced their horses up the canyon, mindful of the possibility of the Empire’s soldiers lying in wait for them. Clarke kept in constant mental contact with Skaiprisa. So far, the dragon hadn’t sensed anything amiss, though she informed Clarke that the woods lining the canyon were extraordinarily quiet.

“It may be a trap, like you said,” Clarke shouted up to Anya where she was in the lead.

“Told you so,” Anya called back.

They had just gotten in view of the mountain Lexa had indicated as the Maunon entrance when Skaiprisa’s frantic voice filled Clarke’s mind. _Klark! ‘Ware!_

Clarke turned her head and spotted a hulking figure sprinting at their horses through the woods. “Reaper!” she yelled at Anya, drawing Azswis. “ _Hod op, jus en klaka,”_ she muttered the spell she’d used on the soldiers back in Shenzen. The Reaper fell without a sound. “Go!” she shouted at Anya, forcing the thought that she’d just killed an innocent person out of her mind. “Get to the mountain!”

The pair redoubled their speed, urging their horses on. Reapers were appearing on all sides now, shouting garbled words out of their scarred mouths as they gave chase. _Prisa, how did you not sense them?_ Clarke called quickly as they rode.

_They were cloaked,_ her dragon spat, sounding frustrated. _With magic. I could not even smell them. Cage yet lives._

_We will deal with that later. Get Lexa to the Maunon,_ Clarke decided. _Anya and I will follow._

_Klark, I do not want to leave you._

_We’ll be fine,_ the blonde promised grimly. _Keep Lexa safe._

_I will._ Skaiprisa disappeared over the mountain as Clarke and Anya dismounted.

“Where’s the entrance?” Anya shouted as they stood back to back, battling off the Reapers that swarmed them. Their horses took off in a panic. Clarke was momentarily grateful she’d been wearing her pack with Abby’s medical kit on her back and had not put it in the saddlebags where it should have been.

“I don’t know!” Clarke yelled, slicing through the chest of one Reaper. _Slash, not stab,_ she reminded herself of Jake’s lessons. A Reaper that got close enough to snap at her with his teeth lost an arm for the effort.

“Well, you better think of something fast, Rider!”

“I’m trying!” Clarke scanned the mountain whenever she had a free second, desperately searching for a way into it. Top to bottom, she saw nothing but rock and dirt and trees. And the waterfall.

The waterfall.

It crashed into a pool of water, but there wasn’t a river leading away. It just stayed put – which begged the question of where the water was going. Clarke thrust a Reaper away from her and took a closer look.

There it was. A slight inward current leading into the mountain. “Anya! The water! We have to go under the waterfall!”

“Are you crazy? We’ll drown!” Anya yelled as she beheaded a Reaper.

“Trust me! Swim under the waterfall. Go, I’ll cover you!” Clarke promised.

Anya gutted one more Reaper and leapt into the pool. Clarke kept the water at her back, leaving her escape route clear as the Reapers surrounded her. She knocked a few away from her with magic, killed a couple more with Azswis. A few minutes later, Skaiprisa spoke. _Anya is here, Klark._

_All right, I’m coming._ Clarke swung her blade in a wide arc, making the Reapers back away slightly. She sheathed her sword and dove into the pool.

It wasn’t until she was submerged that Clarke remembered that she didn’t exactly know how to swim. She could get by for the most part in calm pools for bathing purposes, but the turbulence of the waterfall slamming into the water sent Clarke tumbling.

She got disoriented – couldn’t tell which way was up. Light was all around her, but she could not see where it was coming from. The pounding water just sent Clarke further astray. She was getting dizzy from lack of air. Her pack was dragging her deeper.

_Klark where are you? Anya is in trouble!_ Skaiprisa sent out a worried call.

_I think I’m in trouble, Prisa,_ Clarke managed to reply before everything went black.


	9. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa finally come face to face. Oh, and the Maunon are there too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know it's been almost two months. I'm sorry, but I was really into my Fight Me series, and I've been writing exclusively for that because I love it so much. But this chapter was almost done, and I finally finished it, so here you go. Sorry for the long wait!

Anya had barely surfaced from the water before she was grabbed underneath both arms and hauled to her feet on solid ground. She spluttered, trying to get the water and her hair out of her eyes so that she could see just what Clarke had gotten her into.

“What is your purpose, Rider?” a man’s voice demanded. “Your intent?”

Anya wiped her face on her shoulder since the men holding her didn’t seem inclined to release her. She was greeted with the sight of an elderly gentleman who was gazing at her with blatant fear in his eyes. “I’m not the Dragon Rider,” Anya informed him. “She’s still out there.” She vaguely nodded her head at the waterfall.

A boy with dark hair and looking about Clarke’s age – maybe a little younger – spoke up. “Dante, we have to help her. She’s alone, and there are over thirty Reapers out there.”

“Do not speak out of turn, Monty,” Dante snapped. The boy’s – Monty’s – face hardened even as he fell silent.

Anya noted that he could be a potential ally. She glanced over at Skaiprisa. She was ringed by armed men, but they had wisely not drawn their weapons, not wanting to anger the dragon. Lexa was not in the harness, so she must have already been taken by the healers. Clarke would be glad to know that, if she would just show up. The dragon looked anxious, though, from what Anya had learned about her body language. “Come on, Clarke,” she muttered. “Come on.”

“You be silent!” Dante ordered.

Skaiprisa suddenly lost it. She roared in anger, knocking men off their feet as her tail swung from side to side. The dragon bounded to the pool, sticking her head into it as if looking for her Rider.

Anya figured it out immediately. “Something happened to Clarke,” she told Dante. “You have to let me help her. She’s a Rider, don’t you care that she could die? She might be your only hope against the Empire you _nomonjoken_!” She struggled against the men holding her, but they only tightened their grip. Skaiprisa jerked from the water, prancing back and forth across the small cave desperately. Anya could see she was having a hard time maneuvering out of the tiny space. “Let go of me!” she cried, redoubling her efforts and kicking one of the men in the knees, forcing him down. More men came to grab onto her as she tried to fight them off.

Then, Monty rushed past them and dove into the water. “Monty!” Dante yelled, but the boy was gone. Anya waited anxiously, fearing what he would bring back. Less than a minute later, he returned with an unconscious Clarke in tow. He tugged her up onto the ground at the edge of the pool and slung her backpack beside her before falling onto his back, breathing heavily.

Anya shoved her way free of the stunned men and ran to kneel at Clarke’s side. The teen wasn’t breathing. Skaiprisa worriedly peered over her shoulder. “Come on, _branwada,_ ” Anya growled as she rolled the blonde onto her side. “Don’t give up on me now.” She thumped the younger girl on the back. Nothing happened. Skaiprisa hissed. “I’m _trying_ , Prisa,” Anya snapped. The dragon subsided. She hit Clarke again. When the girl still gave no reaction, Anya hit her back one more time, cursing.

Clarke spluttered to life, coughing up a lungful of water. Anya kept her on her side, rubbing her back. “There you go, Rider,” she soothed, trying to ignore the relief she felt that Clarke was all right. She hadn’t realized how fond she’d grown of the younger girl.

* * *

Clarke’s first thought as she regained consciousness was that her chest and throat were on fire. She coughed up what felt like a gallon of water, gasping for air. Someone was patting her back gently and speaking in a low tone, but Clarke couldn’t make it out over her coughs.

 _Klark!_ Skaiprisa’s voice was deafening in her head.

 _I’m – fine – Prisa,_ Clarke gasped. Even her mental voice sounded weak to herself.

Some old man was yelling at a boy that didn’t look much older than her, calling him Monty as he berated the black haired boy for pulling Clarke from the water. “You’re going to be in trouble with the Chancellor for this, Monty,” the old man threatened the boy – Monty. “Going against my direct orders.”

“Remember that I am under the protection of the Grounders, not the Maunon,” Monty defied him. “I don’t answer to you.”

“The Grounders and the Maunon have an agreement, along with the rest of the dwarves,” Dante spat. “One that you blatantly ignored.”

“She’s a Dragon Rider, Dante!” Monty gave as good as he got. “She’s what we’ve been waiting for! You can see her dragon for yourself. And you wanted me to just let the girl die?”

Clarke tore her attention away from the arguing pair to focus on Anya. “Lexa,” she groaned out, her throat still burning.

“They took her to a healer,” Anya quietly reassured her. “She’ll be fine. You need to worry about us, now.”

Clarke hauled herself to her feet, Anya subtly assisting her. “I am Clarke of the Dragokru,” she said as clearly as she could, interrupting the still bickering duo. Everyone’s eyes turned to her, making her falter for a moment.

 _You are not alone, Klark,_ Skaiprisa reminded her.

The blonde squared her shoulders. “This is Skaiprisa, and Anya is my friend. Would you deny us entrance to your Maunon?” She asked haughtily.

“We did not know of your – allegiance,” Dante replied, stalling. “You could have been working with Thelonious, for all we knew.”

“I have returned your –” Clarke paused. She didn’t actually know Lexa’s official position within the Maunon. Jake called her the Commander, but was that her title?

 _Carrier_ , Skaiprisa supplied silently.

“– Your Carrier to you. Is that not proof enough of our intentions?” Clarke finished.

“It is customary that new recruits have their minds swept for deceit before they are granted access to the Maunon,” Dante informed her.

“And if I refuse?”

More than one of the soldiers’ hands went for their swords. Dante held up his hand, halting their motion. “Then we will have no choice but to ask you to leave.”

“Dante, there’s a horde of Reapers out there,” Monty protested.

“Then they would be wise to acquiesce,” Dante said firmly.

 _What do you think, Prisa?_ Clarke asked mentally.

 _We need to get in. The Maunon could help us with the Shade, and Lexa is in there,_ Skaiprisa replied. It was almost a need – the desire Clarke felt to be near Lexa, and she could tell that her dragon felt it too. _I remember her,_ Skaiprisa realized. _She carried my egg for years. I recognized her mind. She kept me safe until I could find you._

The revelation shook Clarke. _We need to get in there,_ she decided. _But we’re going to have to hide things. I don’t think I’m strong enough. Shielding still gives me problems._

_I am. Give the memories to me._

Clarke quickly sifted through the memories she didn’t want Dante to find out. She gave Skaiprisa the day she found her egg, every word of Trigedasleng she knew, her healing knowledge and Abby’s prophecy, Octavia and Lincoln’s existence, everything Lexa told her and the extent of her torture, and Anya. _That’s it._

“Fine,” she told Dante, holding out her arms. “Search away.”

Dante took her head between his hands, and pain immediately scorched through her. Clarke wanted to cry out, but she remained stubbornly silent. Then some of the burning faded as Skaiprisa took her within her own mind, shielding her. Clarke could feel Dante digging through her past. She clenched her jaw in anger when he spent a seemingly infinite amount of time looking at the day of Aurora’s murder, but she said nothing. Skaiprisa kept everything important hidden safely away.

Finally, Dante pulled away with obvious reluctance. “She’s clean,” he admitted. He turned to Anya next. “Now you.”

Anya shook her head, hand resting on her sword. “No _joken_ way, you _branwada_ ,” she snarled. “You aren’t digging around in my head. You already admitted Clarke so you can’t use her against me and I am not letting you crawl around in here,” she hissed, tapping her head.

“Asking permission is polite. I don’t need to be polite,” Dante subtly threatened.

“I have walls,” Anya told him.

“I will break them.”

“I give you my word she’s no threat to you,” Clarke tried.

“Isn’t that enough, Dante?” Monty jumped in. “You were already rougher on Clarke than you needed to be.”

“You’re assistance is no longer needed Monty. You may leave.” Dante’s request was an order.

A look of stubbornness crossed Monty’s face. He held his hands up, took a seat on a stone, crossed his arms, and stared at Dante – all without a word – clearly fed up.

Dante huffed in annoyance, but turned back to Anya. “Let me in, or I will force my way in – and perhaps break your mind when I do.” The threat was not subtle this time.

Skaiprisa growled. Clarke went for her sword and Anya drew hers. Several soldiers armed themselves as well, although many looked undecided, looking between Dante and the large dragon that was plainly upset. Clarke cast about for a solution. She spotted a girl standing nearby, probably a bit younger than her. She was pale with dark, wavy hair. Clarke took out her dagger instead of Azswis and grabbed the girl, holding her back to her chest and her knife to the girl’s throat.

The girl cried out in fear, and everything stopped. All eyes turned to the two girls. “Unless you cease your threat against Anya immediately, Skaiprisa and the two of us will fly right out that waterfall,” Clarke said harshly. “If you harm us in _any_ way, I will kill her.” She wasn’t bluffing. The dark haired girl whimpered. Clarke hesitated at the sound, but she stood firm. Her first priorities were Skaiprisa and Anya. Everyone else took second place – even the innocent.

Even Monty looked shocked at Clarke’s brazenness, but he remained where he was. Anya looked surprised, but grateful. Clarke kept her knife at the girl’s throat.

“You’re not doing yourself any favors, Rider,” Dante warned. “The Chancellor will not be pleased when he hears you threatened one of his citizens.”

Clarke shook her head at yet another vague threat. “He may be the Chancellor, but right now, I’m in charge. I am the last free Dragon Rider,” she informed him pompously. “You need me. I _don’t_ need you. I did you a favor in returning your Carrier, and I have received nothing but pain and trouble for it. If you hurt Anya, I will bring your castle down around your ears. If you hurt _me_ , Skaiprisa will tear this place apart. You wouldn’t _dare_ risk it.”

The girl was trembling in her arms, trying to avoid cutting herself on Clarke’s knife. Clarke felt bad. She didn’t _want_ to hurt her. “Don’t make me do this.” But she would. To protect Anya. Clarke would do _anything_ to keep those she cared about – which had quickly grown to include the older woman – safe. She would abandon all of their efforts to get here, if that was what it took. Her grip on the knife tightened. “What will it be, Dante?” she asked calmly, leveling him with an even stare.

Dante clenched his jaw, furious at being outplayed. “You will stay here for the night,” he said at last. “The Chancellor will want to meet you in the morning and further arrangements will be made then. Your – _friend_ – will be allowed inside as well. Now, let Maya go.”

Clarke shook her head. “All your soldiers need to go first. You’ve given me no reason to trust your word. Monty can stay. He’s the only one here that seems to have any brains at all.”

Dante glared at her, but Clarke glared right back. Eventually, the old man broke eye contact and sent the men away with a nod. Once they were gone, Clarke removed her knife from Maya’s throat. “I’m sorry,” she whispered quietly as Maya crept away, holding her neck gingerly. Dante took Maya in hand and left without another word.

Monty went to follow, but paused. “I’ll bring you some food later,” he muttered.

“Thanks, Monty. And thank you. For saving me,” Clarke replied gratefully. With a final nod, Monty was gone as well.

Once they were alone, Clarke sagged to the ground, dropping her head to her knees. She was exhausted. She had thought everything would be better when they reached the Maunon, but Jake had been right, as usual. They were already tearing her apart, turning her into someone else. A month ago, she never would have thought to threaten an innocent to get her way. And she’d done it without flinching five minutes ago.

Anya collapsed next to her. “Not exactly a warm welcome,” she said dryly.

Clarke chuckled. “Wasn’t really what I was expecting,” she admitted, leaning against Anya’s shoulder.

Anya patted her knee. “You had me worried for a minute there, kid,” she revealed.

“I didn’t want to hurt her,” Clarke pleaded. She needed Anya to understand, of all people. She needed Anya on her side. “I need you.”

Anya shook her head. “Not that, you _branwada_ ,” she insulted her affectionately. “When you didn’t come out of that water. Why didn’t you tell me you can’t swim?”

“There wasn’t time. And – I forgot,” the teen confessed sheepishly.

Anya scoffed. “You dove under a waterfall and forgot that you can’t swim.” She rubbed her temples. “Of course you did.”

“Hey, I had two dozen Reapers swinging swords at me! It wasn’t on the top of my list of relevant facts,” Clarke protested.

“Don’t scare me like that again,” Anya told her. “Or I’ll beat you myself.”

Clarke smiled. “Good to know you care.” She laughed when Anya shoved her – she didn’t deny it, though. They were both quiet for a while, Skaiprisa humming contently from where she’d curled up next to them to share her warmth.

“Thank you, by the way,” Anya broke the silence some time later. “For saving my ass, back there. There are memories – events – that I would rather didn’t come to the light of day. Things about my past.”

“I promised I wouldn’t let anything happen to you,” Clarke reminded her. “I’ve only known you for a few weeks, but you’re one of the best friends I’ve ever had.”

“You’re the only friend I’ve had,” Anya admitted. “Apart from Indra, at least.”

Clarke glanced at the older girl, wondering if right then was a good time to ask about her past. “What happened to you? Who are you?” she finally inquired.

Anya stiffened. She stared at the ground for a long time, deep in thought. Clarke was about to tell her to forget about it when Anya took a deep breath. “I’m a secret,” she began.

A throat clearing interrupted them. They turned to glare at the intruder. Monty shrunk back, holding out a tray as a peace offering. “I brought you some supper,” he said weakly. “And some meat for Skaiprisa.”

Clarke relaxed. “Thank you, Monty. We appreciate it. And so does Skaiprisa,” she added.

Monty smiled. “She’s gorgeous,” he said admiringly. Skaiprisa preened at his words, making Clarke shake her head fondly.

“Don’t compliment her too much,” she warned him. “It goes straight to her head, and I have to deal with a vain dragon.”

Skaiprisa blew smoke at her Rider, making Clarke cough and the other two laugh. “I’ll leave you to it,” Monty told them. “I will fetch you in the morning to bring you before the Chancellor.” He turned to go.

“Monty?” Clarke called. He looked back. “I hope you didn’t get in trouble for us,” she worried.

Monty grinned at her. “Nah. The Grounders Clan look after their own. The Maunon can’t touch me. They’ll pretend to punish me to appease the Maunon, but they won’t actually do anything. I’ll be fine, Clarke.”

Clarke nodded, reassured, and Monty left. She and Anya ate quickly, with Skaiprisa snapping up the hunk of meat Monty had left for her in two bites. After they were done, Clarke turned expectantly back to Anya.

The older girl sighed fondly. “You’re not going to let it go, huh?” Clarke shook her head, making Anya smile. “I guess you deserve to know.” She didn’t say anything for a while, but Clarke gave her time to think. Eventually, Anya began again.

“I suppose I should start with my father, since he’s the easiest. Indra told me she never knew his name. My mother kept him isolated from the rest of the household while he was hers. My mother – she was a monster. Did Jake tell you about the Forsworn?” she asked hoarsely.

Clarke nodded. The betrayers of the Riders had been in one of his lessons one afternoon. They had joined Thelonious in his mutiny in a bid for greater power. Their deeds drove their dragons to madness – forced to go against their own kind.

“My mother’s name was Nia, but mostly people just called her Azquin.”

Cold rushed through Clarke at the name. “Ice queen?” she murmured.

Anya nodded at Clarke’s sword, hanging unobtrusively from her waist. “Azswis was her blade, once. I always wondered what happened to it after she was killed.”

Jake had never told her that her sword belonged to a dragon killer. What else hadn’t he told her? “Do you – do you want it?” she asked hesitantly.

Anya viciously shook her head. “No,” she spat. “I want nothing to do with her.” Her hands jerked to her back, pulling at her shirt. Clarke gasped. Crossing Anya’s back were small marks, like tallies. There were dozens – over a hundred. “These are what I got from her,” Anya growled. “Every time I messed up a lesson, or spoke out of turn – or if she thought I was getting to be too familiar with one of the servants – I got one more line from Azswis. All of my tutors were in her pocket, eager to curry favor by keeping her informed of my misdeeds. I suppose I should count myself lucky, only receiving cuts. Any of the servants that were kind to me were killed.”

“I’m sorry,” Clarke whispered.

Anya shrugged. “She’s gone now. It doesn’t matter. But I skipped too far ahead. My father. Nia only took my father to her bed because he had a Dragon Rider in his family line,” she told Clarke, disgusted. “I never knew him. She killed him the day she realized she was pregnant. Nine months after, I was born. Indra told me later that Nia had all of the attending healers executed so that word of my birth would not travel around. You see, Clarke, Thelonious has two dragon eggs that he stole nearly a century ago. He kept them in a vault, thinking that maybe one day, they would hatch and he could begin to build an army of Riders. Nia’s dragon, Okoudaunon, was crazy – driven mad by the evil Nia forced him to do against his kind. Indra told me his madness would be even worse as the love he still held for the bond between himself and Nia would war with his loyalty to his species and the rest of the Riders. He hated Nia, probably wanted to kill her, but loved her too much to do so, I guess. I think when Nia was killed, it was a relief for Okau – at least I hope it was.”

The older woman sighed. Clarke was listening intently. “Are you sure you want to hear more?” Anya asked. Clarke nodded eagerly. The older blonde managed a small smile that was more like a grimace. “All right. Nia was hoping that a dragon would hatch for me, since I had Rider blood from both parents, and then she could begin an army of her own and one day overthrow Thelonious. Except, by the time I was old enough, one egg had been stolen, and Thelonious wouldn’t let anyone near the capital anymore. I guess that was you, Prisa,” Anya realized.

“After that, Nia lost interest in me. Indra took care of me. She was press ganged into serving as a general for my mother. She was a blacksmith, by trade, but before that, she’d been a soldier – a good one. Nia threatened her family, so she came. Indra taught me how to fight, how to ride, how to fix my weapons, how to read and write. Made sure I ate. She’s probably the only reason I didn’t kill myself before Nia died.”

“How did Nia die?” Clarke inquired.

“She was assassinated. I don’t know by who, but I wish I could find them and thank them for it. After she was gone, Thelonious took over Nia’s lands. He took an interest in me for a while, so I was stuck again. Indra could have escaped at any time after Nia was killed, but she stayed to protect me.” Anya stopped speaking for a while, staring off into space. Clarke let her be, waiting patiently to hear the rest. “When I was twenty-one, Thelonious approached me. He had a plan, he said. A way to begin the Empire anew. He said there was a new Rider, and he was going to find them. You. Convince you to join him willingly. You and he – you would build a stronger kingdom. Rebuild the Riders. He wanted me to help look for you – persuade you that joining Thelonious was the right choice. He didn’t have to tell me what the price of either of us refusing would be.”

Clarke shook her head. An entire political war was being waged, and she had been caught in the middle of it without ever knowing it had even existed, simply by Skaiprisa hatching for her. Just another secret Jake had kept from her. He had to have known what was going on in Alagaesia. “What did you decide?” she asked. She trusted Anya with her entire being, but if this had all been a clever trap to get her to join up with Thelonious –

“I ran away, of course,” Anya scoffed. “Indra helped me escape. She was going to come with me, but someone sounded the alarm while we were going through the outer gate. Indra stayed behind to give me time. I never heard from her again. I wandered around for almost a year, and then I ran into you. That’s who I am, Clarke. I told you it wasn’t pretty.”

Clarke and Anya were silent for a while, Clarke processing Anya’s tale and the older woman busy stuffing her bad memories back into a box in her mind, to be ignored once more. “What about you, Clarke?” Anya finally asked. “Got any skeletons to unearth? What’s your story?”

“Not much of one,” Clarke shrugged. “You know about my cousin, Octavia. She’s my best friend – or she was. She probably hates me now. It’s my fault her mother died.”

“How? You told me about the Reapers, but why did they come?” Anya inquired.

Skaiprisa growled, startling the pair. Clarke patted her soothingly, nearly falling to the side when her dragon nudged her back. “They attacked – sent to find me and Prisa. My aunt was killed, and then I ran away a few days later to protect my village and Octavia and her fiancé. I didn’t even tell her I was leaving.”

“What about your parents?” Anya changed the subject when she noticed Clarke’s melancholy.

Clarke scoffed. “No idea. My mother was Aurora’s sister but – come to think of it – Aurora never even mentioned her name. Just that she disappeared one day, and years later, I was left at her door wrapped in a blanket with a note saying I was her niece and my name was Clarke. I’m lucky she took me in at all. My father could be anyone in the realm.”

“Well, take it from me,” Anya began, bumping shoulders with the younger girl, “parents often aren’t what they’re supposed to be. Sounds like you got lucky with your aunt and cousin.”

The teen smiled. “Yeah. You’d like Octavia, I think. She’s as brash as you, and about as rude.” Anya cuffed her on the head, making Clarke laugh.

“You better watch it,” Anya grumbled. “Next time I’ll let you drown, you ungrateful _skrish_. Now go to sleep. We get the _privilege_ of meeting the Chancellor tomorrow, and I’d wager we’re not out of trouble yet.” She lay down right where she was, leaving barely any room for Clarke to settle down between her and Skaiprisa.

“It’ll be fine, Anya,” Clarke assured her. “I’ll take care of it, I promise.” She shoved the older girl over a bit, chuckling when Anya half-heartedly tried to hit her before falling straight to sleep. Skaiprisa covered them both with one wing, sealing them off from the cool air of the cave.

 _Good night, Prisa,_ Clarke whispered before she fell asleep.

_Good night, little one._

* * *

Monty fetched them early the next morning to show them around Mount Weather. “The Maunon made an alliance with the dwarves a hundred years ago. My clan, the Grounders – this was their home originally, but they offered it as a base because it is the safest place besides the Wasteland. The Maunon have been here ever since, recruiting, training, waiting for some chink in Thelonious’ armor to appear. The Elves used to be part of the alliance too, but the Commander withdrew his support when the Carrier was taken,” he explained. “They retreated to their forest, and we haven’t heard from them since. Maybe now that Lexa’s back, the Commander will honor the alliance again.”

“But I thought Lexa –” Clarke began.

 _Klark, hush!_ Skaiprisa broke in.

Clarke fell silent. _What is it?_

 _It may be that the Maunon do not know of Lexa’s true title. If they believe someone else is the Commander, the Elves may not trust them fully. We should be on our guard_ , her dragon warned.

_Right._

“What about Lexa, Clarke?” Monty asked.

Clarke thought quickly. “Oh, I was just hoping to see her today, and you talking about the Elves reminded me of that. Is she well enough for visitors yet? Do you know much about her?” Anya gave her a strange look, but let the lie pass without comment.

Monty chuckled. “No one really understood Lexa _before_ she was captured. We saw her once a year when she brought the egg for children to be tested. Then she would disappear again. I’m not sure she ever spoke to anyone besides maybe Abby. She’s kind of a mystery.”

“Wait, Abby’s here?” Clarke exclaimed. “She works for the Maunon?”

“Not exactly,” Monty denied. “She comes and goes, we’re not quite sure how. When she’s around, she helps us, yes. But that’s not very often. How do you know her?”

Clarke paused. She wasn’t sure she wanted to go into detail about meeting Abby. Sensing her discomfort, Anya interrupted. “Monty, I actually have a question. You’re human.”

“That’s your question?” Monty asked quizzically.

Anya smiled wryly. “No. But how did you end up with the Grounders clan?”

“Oh!” Monty grinned. “I’m an orphan from the Maunon. I was wandering around in the caves beneath us when I was little – like four – and I got lost. When a Grounder eventually found me – she said I had dug out glowing crystals from the wall and was trying to make them into a bundle to find my way out. She was impressed with my ingenuity, I guess, and when she found out I didn’t have parents, she adopted me. Her name’s Luna.”

“That’s great Monty,” Clarke said genuinely. Monty was sweet – a sincerely kind person – which was a character trait she hadn’t found in a lot of people since she’d run away from home. “That was very kind of her.”

Monty nodded. “You guys want to meet her?” he offered. “She’s really smart – a great blacksmith.”

Anya perked up at those words. “I haven’t seen a good forge in a while,” she agreed.

“Come on, then!” Monty was waving for them to follow him when a harsh voice called from behind the group.

“Rider!”

Clarke halted midstep before turning around to meet Dante with a roll of her eyes and a clenched jaw. “What is it, Dante?” she growled.

Dante frowned, his anger poorly concealed. “You are dismissed, Monty,” he ordered.

When Monty looked like he was going to protest, Clarke jumped in. “It’s okay, Monty. Take Anya to meet Luna. I’ll follow in a bit. Dante and I need to have a talk.” Reluctantly, Monty continued on his way to the caverns. Anya hesitated, but Clarke shooed her away with her eyes. Thankfully, Anya, for once, was agreeable, and followed after Monty.

“The Chancellor wishes you to be tested in magical proficiency – to see how much Jake taught you before his, untimely, death – before you are taken to meet with him today,” Dante informed her once they were alone.

“And the Chancellor could not inform me himself?” Clarke couldn’t help retorting.

“The Chancellor is – a busy man,” Dante hissed. “He does not have time to chase around wayward teens. You will test with me.”

 _I do not like this, Klark,_ Skaiprisa warned her Rider.

_Me neither, Prisa. Does something about him feel – wrong – to you?_

_Yes. But I do not know what yet._

“We will begin now, Rider.”

Clarke eyed Dante warily. She could feel an eagerness emanating from him that unsettled her, and she was trying to think of a way out of participating in whatever test he had planned when Lexa appeared out of nowhere. “Stop this, Dante,” Lexa commanded.

The teen stared at the Elf, who appeared to have never been ill a day in her life – certainly not as close to death as she had been the day before. “Lexa?” she muttered. Lexa shot a quick glance at Clarke before turning her attention back to Dante.

“Carrier,” he growled, sounding frustrated. “I did not know you were healed enough to be up and around.” Clarke thought he was disappointed, for some reason. She didn’t want to know what he had planned that he could be disappointed about.

“You did not know because you were not at your post. Instead, you were interrogating the Dragokru and their companion without reason,” Lexa replied. For all she sounded calm, Clarke could feel the seething anger pouring off of her. In contrast, her face was a mask of indifference. “As the Representative of the Trigedakru, it is my right and duty to test the Dragokru in their knowledge, as decreed by the alliance between the Maunon, the dwarves, and the Trigedakru people, as you well know, Dante.” Her tone was commanding, as though she had no doubt she would immediately be obeyed.

“I – I did not think you were capable of performing the tests so soon after your poisoning, Carrier,” Dante stuttered.

A blaze of power surging from Lexa would have made Clarke want to cower away if she hadn’t known that it wasn’t directed at her. Dante _did_ flinch, however. “Do not _presume_ to know of what I am capable, Wallace,” she declared, still calm but eyes flashing. “ _Gon we (Go away)._ Now.”

Dante scurried off, proverbial tail tucked between his legs. Clarke stared at Lexa, eyes wide in astonishment at the display of her obvious strength. In full health, Lexa was a force to be reckoned with, she could tell already. Lexa turned to her, anger gone and instead replaced with curiosity, and Clarke quickly schooled her face back to normal. This would be the first time they physically spoke face to face, and Clarke couldn’t help feeling like she needed to leave a good impression.

“Dragon Rider,” Lexa greeted.

“Elf,” Clarke couldn’t help needling her. At Lexa’s furrowed brow and frown of confusion, Clarke went on. “See how senseless it is when we refer to each other by what we are? I have a name you know. You _can_ use it.”

Lexa lowered her eyes and dipped her head in assent. “Clarke,” she tried again, a new respect in her eyes.

Clarke smiled a bit. “Lexa. Thank you,” she added.

“Dante Wallace is a coward. And weak,” Lexa dismissed. “Frightened of any true power he is confronted with. That is why he fears you.”

“That sounds about right,” Clarke allowed, “but that’s not what I wanted to thank you for.” Lexa tilted her head, puzzled. “Skaiprisa told me she remembers you. You Carried her. For years. Thank you for keeping her safe all that time,” Clarke said fervently, getting down to one knee and bowing her head in respect for Lexa’s sacrifice. Jake had taught her this, saying it was to be used only in special circumstances. She wasn’t entirely sure how it worked, but she felt like it would be wise to remain bent until Lexa gave her some sign.

Sure enough, near silent footsteps padded across the stone until a gentle hand rested on the crown of Clarke’s head. “It was an honor, Dragokru,” Lexa murmured. When she removed her hand, Clarke got to her feet. “You have grown into everything I hoped you would be,” she addressed Skaiprisa. “And you, Clarke. Skaiprisa chose her Rider well.”

Clarke smiled proudly.

“Dante was right about one thing, though,” Lexa continued. “The Chancellor does wish for you be tested. I am sure Jake taught you well, but I need to know how in depth he was able to go before his death.”

Clarke nodded solemnly. “Before we start, can I ask you something?”

“You may,” Lexa assented.

“Are you entirely well?” the Rider asked, still a bit worried. “It’s just – you were in that coma, and they didn’t let me see you, and then you just showed up out of nowhere and I just – those men, in that prison –” Lexa clenched her jaw and Clarke rushed to continue. “In my dreams, I saw what they did to you and I just wanted to make sure the healers found everything I couldn’t fix because Jake died because I wasn’t enough and I just need to know that you’re fine now,” she rushed to get out. “Also, I overheard Jake calling you by a title that nobody calls you here. They call you Carrier, instead.” Clarke bit her lip, afraid she’d gone too far in her rambling.

Lexa’s features softened slightly. “I am well, Clarke,” she reassured the younger girl. “My physical injuries were well on their way to healed, thanks to you, and while it took several healers working together to purge the Wamplei from my body, I was able to guide them through it. You have my gratitude, as do you, Skaiprisa – and Anya.” Lexa took a deep breath. “I know you have other questions. But even the walls have ears, here, and it is not wise to speak of private matters out in the open. Someday, I may get the chance to explain. But for now, please keep my title to yourself, and we will begin your exercises.”

Clarke nodded. “Alright then. Hit me with your best shot. I’m ready.”

The corners of Lexa’s mouth curled up into a tiny smirk. “Let us begin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okou = coat, get daun = worry/concern, so I took liberty and am saying Okoudaunon means like, terrifying. Which he was, in his prime. A dart of pure black, in contrast with the glowing white of Azswis, soaring through the air. He and Nia were quite the fiercesome pair before she became one of the Forsworn and Okoudaunon went insane with grief. After, the only thing more frightening was the thought of Thelonious himself.


	10. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa get to know each other a little better and Clarke finally meets the Chancellor.

“Come,” Lexa beckoned after she had been satisfied with Clarke’s proficiency in Trigedasleng. “We must collect Anya before I take you to meet the Chancellor. After the disruption you three caused yesterday, he is eager to see what he is dealing with.”

Clarke scowled from where she was bent over, hands on her knees and panting from the exertion of the magical exercises Lexa had put her through for the last three hours. “Dante was the instigator, not me,” she reminded the Elf.

“Still,” Lexa persisted, “it is best that you leave a different impression when you meet the Chancellor. I know what happened, Clarke, but you are a stranger. And humans talk.”

“Are you telling me Elves don’t gossip?” Clarke asked disbelievingly.

Lexa only gave her an overly patient look. “My people have much more important matters than wasting time on idle chatter. Yet humans thrive on it.”

Clarke just rolled her eyes. “Superior, much,” she muttered. The Elf just nodded her head in the direction they were supposed to go. She set off without waiting for Clarke, knowing she would be followed.

Left with little choice, Clarke hurried after Lexa, Skaiprisa padding along behind them. “Who is this Chancellor anyway?” she inquired, slightly annoyed by Lexa’s reticence. “Nobody says his name around here, why is that?”

“Just as no one not familiar with you would ever call you Clarke, so they only refer to him as Chancellor. It is a sign of his peoples’ respect,” Lexa explained patiently.

As Clarke opened her mouth to ask another question, Monty reappeared with Anya in tow. “I see you found Lexa, then,” Anya quipped.

“Shut up, Anya,” Clarke growled, making the older woman huff out a laugh.

“So we’re off to meet the mighty Chancellor at last, huh?”

Clarke shrugged. “I guess. Lexa says I need to make a better impression than the one Dante’s painted of me. I’m not entirely sure if I know how to do that or if I _want_ to suck up to someone. I don’t like playing mind games.”

“I’d say if he’s respectful to you, you return it. Otherwise, you don't owe them _skrish_. The way I see it, you’re doing _them_ a favor, and that’s all you’ve done so far. You’re in control of this,” Anya encouraged her.

“Yeah?” Clarke asked, uneasy.

Anya slung her arms over the younger girl’s shoulders. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much, kid. It’s not like they’re going to kick you out. They can’t afford to.”

* * *

Lexa silently led Clarke and the others up to a set of enormously tall double doors that were guarded by two solemn looking men.

“The Dragokru and the warrior Anya to see the Chancellor,” Lexa announced. The pair nodded and pushed the doors – big enough to allow a creature even larger than Skaiprisa entrance – open, bowing for them to enter. “You go in first,” Lexa murmured to Clarke.

Clarke paused. “Me? You’re of higher rank, aren’t you?” she whispered, not wanting to be overheard.

“Not today. Remember my words from earlier,” Lexa hissed back, nodding once more for Clarke to go through.

Reluctantly, the Rider entered the hall on the other side of the doors. If she hadn’t been too busy worrying about meeting and making nice with the Chancellor, she would have admired the art carved into the stone pillars that supported the high ceiling, showing what appeared to be the history of the dwarves.

“Welcome, Dragokru,” a voice came from the end of the hall. Clarke was jerked from her worries and was greeted with the first sight of the much spoken of Chancellor of the Maunon. Her initial thought was that he was a lot younger than she had expected. She’d been anticipating an older man like Dante, eager to find fault in everything and completely unreasonable. But the seated dark-skinned man before her seemed only a little older than her, if at all.

“I never thought I’d see a dragon and her Rider with my own eyes,” the Chancellor continued.

Clarke didn’t really know what to say to that. Was she supposed to say something? _Prisa?_ she asked for help silently.

 _I do not know, Klark._ Her dragon sounded just as lost as her.

Luckily, Lexa stepped in before Clarke could flounder. “Chancellor Wells, may I present to you the Dragon Rider Clarke and her dragon Skaiprisa, as well as their companion, the warrior Anya.”

Uncertain if she should bow or not, Clarke decided on just nodding her head respectfully. Skaiprisa and Anya did the same.

The Chancellor, Wells, stood from his chair and approached Clarke. “We heard stories, but scarcely could believe them,” he told her. “A Dragon Rider in our midst once more. You have garnered quite the reputation in the last few months – many here already respect you. I only wish your arrival could have been under more pleasant circumstances.”

Clarke spoke up. “Thank you, Chancellor, and I would have appreciated that as well. Perhaps a different welcoming party, next time?”

 _Klark_ , Skaiprisa warned her. _Be polite._

The teen nodded quickly. “I apologize, Chancellor,” she backtracked. “Our trip was long and exhausting, and to be met with hostility barely through the gate has left me rattled.”

Wells waved her off. “I’m the one who should be apologizing to you. Dante was out of line yesterday. We have relied on him for our safety for so long that we tend to allow him to do as he pleases. Rest assured that he has been reprimanded for the threats he made in fear. We do not make it a habit of forcing people to comply with our wishes. The Urgals and these new Reapers have had us all on edge recently.”

“That is understandable, Chancellor. However, I need to know that you can guarantee that Anya will be safe from any invasion of her mind. Without her, I would have been dead more than once, and Skaiprisa as well.”

“You have it,” Wells agreed immediately. “If the Dragokru trust you, as will we,” he told Anya.

Anya nodded her thanks, but didn’t say anything.

“Well, then,” the Chancellor nodded in satisfaction. “You are welcome to occupy yourselves as you like. Clarke and Anya, I’m sure you would both be able to teach our troops a thing or two about swords, if you would like. I hope that we will be able to speak more, but I am sure you would prefer to settle in.”

“Thank you,” Clarke replied gratefully. “It’s been a long few months.”

Wells smiled at her kindly. “I will have you and Anya escorted to the room where you will be staying,” he decided. “We are grateful to all three of you for what you have already done for the Maunon, and I look forward to seeing what else you may accomplish.”

The dismissal was clear, even if it was cordial, and Clarke and her companions turned to follow Lexa out of the hall.

“You did well, Clarke,” Lexa murmured to her quietly as they left.

Clarke breathed out a sigh of relief.

* * *

“That could have gone worse,” Anya mused. Lexa had veered off into a side hall after Clarke and Anya were led to their room, promising that she would meet them later.

“Yeah,” Clarke replied, a bit confused. “He was – kinder – than I expected. Far less political. Unless that _was_ politics, him being kind.” She wasn’t built for this kind of thing. Too many mind games.

 _It is an interesting method of conversation,_ Skaiprisa spoke up. _You must sort through their words to find a person’s true meaning._

 _Exactly why I don’t like it,_ Clarke told her. _Why can’t people just tell me what they really want instead of trying to trick me into doing it?_

“Either way, he wants to be on your good side, so I wouldn’t worry about it. One thing’s been bothering me, though. What’s with you and the Elf, anyways?” Anya asked, interrupting them.

“What? What do you mean?” Clarke tried to deflect.

Anya scoffed. “I mean the way you couldn’t take your eyes off her, _branwada_. Is there something going on between you two I should know about?” she teased.

Clarke blushed. “I wasn’t – she didn’t – we’re not – No. There isn’t.” Her flustered denial did nothing to convince Anya.

“Whatever you say, Dragon Rider.” Clarke shoved her, making Anya laugh. The younger blond huffed in annoyance and left the room, hoping to maybe find someplace where they either served or sold food. Getting away from Anya would be an added bonus.

 _Klark, I do not understand,_ Skaiprisa added, following. _Why would you not be able to ‘take your eyes off’ Lexa? What does that mean?_

Clarke groaned. “This is your fault,” she muttered to Anya, who had followed her. Much to her chagrin. “I’ll explain when you’re older, Prisa,” she responded to her dragon.

Skaiprisa growled. _I do not like that answer, Klark._

“It doesn’t mean anything! Nothing is going on – not with me, not with Lexa, and _certainly_ not between us so if you two could just –” Clarke’s rant was cut off when she ran into something solid. She stumbled backwards, but strong hands gripped her elbows, allowing her to catch herself. Anya snorted out a laugh. “Lexa,” Clarke mumbled, embarrassed, when she saw who she’d collided with. “Sorry about that.”

Lexa quickly let go of her. “You should be aware of your surroundings at all times, Clarke,” the Elf admonished her. She had changed into lighter, less formal clothes, and she had a sword strapped around her waist.

Clarke ran her hand over her eyes exasperatedly. “Not you too,” she moaned.

“I do not know to what you are referring,” Lexa replied. “Now come. We have training.” She turned to go.

“We already did training,” Clarke reminded her.

Lexa paused, then faced Clarke once more. “I performed your magical assessment, yes. And you passed. Now I will assess your physical abilities. Come.” She walked off toward the training grounds Monty had pointed out to Clarke and Anya earlier.

Clarke groaned, sagging. She was exhausted. There had been no time for recovery since her and Anya’s flight across the desert – she had gone straight into the lion’s den coming to the Maunon. Dealing with Dante, training with Lexa, and meeting the Chancellor had merely drained her further.

“You should probably go,” Anya interrupted her thoughts. “I don’t think Lexa’s one to be kept waiting.”

“I have a brilliant idea,” Clarke grumbled, shuffling after Lexa. “ _You_ try to hit Lexa with a sword, and I’ll take a nap.”

Anya chuckled. “I had no plans on being impaled today,” she said dryly. “Good luck. I’ll be rooting for you.”

* * *

“Again, Clarke,” Lexa demanded as she landed another rap of the flat of her blade against Clarke’s back, making the blonde stumble.

Clarke grit her teeth, preparing to go another round. She and Lexa had been at it for well over an hour, Lexa beating her solidly in every skirmish. She’d thought she was good. When she and Anya had sparred, they were of equal skill, and Jake had said she would someday be an excellent swordsman. But Clarke was no match for the speed and deftness the Elf displayed.

Lexa attacked once more, appearing to fly at Clarke, she moved so quickly. Clarke managed to fend her off, holding her own for a good five minutes before Lexa swept her feet out from under her. Clarke landed hard on her back, the point of Lexa’s blade pricking against her throat a bare second later. “Dead again,” Lexa informed her. Clarke rolled her eyes and shoved the sword out of her face, staggering to her feet. “You need to be better than this, Clarke,” Lexa instructed, moving into a ready stance. “Jake taught you well, but he left out crucial details in his lessons. You need to be better than this,” she repeated.

Clarke bristled at the criticism of Jake’s teaching. “I have been doing this for _three months_ , Lexa,” she bit out, raising her sword. “And the entire time we were either riding across the nation to find the Shade responsible for murdering my aunt or riding across the desert to get _you_ here. There wasn’t a lot of time.”

Lexa began the next round, speaking as she attacked. “Love is weakness,” she dismissed. “Jake would have done better to bring you straight here for instruction, rather than encourage your useless pursuit of revenge.”

“Need I remind you that if it wasn’t for that ‘weakness’,” Clarke snarled, slashing quickly at Lexa and making her leap out of the way, “you would still be in that cell? So I wouldn’t be complaining too much, Lexa.”

 _Calm yourself, Klark. Lexa means no harm,_ Skaiprisa warned her Rider. Clarke paid her no mind.

“I had accepted my fate, Clarke,” Lexa informed her. “I knew there was a high probability of my eventual imprisonment or death when I volunteered to be Skaiprisa’s Carrier. I kept the egg safe, as was my duty. My spirit would have found another in the event of my death.” Her sword slapped Clarke’s arm. “Again.”

Clarke struggled through three more rounds against the other woman, losing all three. Lexa finally dismissed her when the blonde fell heavily to the ground once more, exhausted. “We’re done,” she told the Rider, her voice neutral. Clarke couldn’t tell if she was disappointed or not, but then she reached her hand out for Clarke to grab. She did so gratefully, letting Lexa help her to her feet. “You may do what you wish for the rest of the afternoon.”

Lexa turned to leave, but Clarke grabbed her arm to stop her. “Did I pass _this_ time?” she asked, still a bit breathless and frustrated from their last bout.

The Elf’s eyes softened just a bit before she nodded. “Yes, Clarke. You will be a skilled swordsman someday. I pushed you because you need to understand that there is no time. A war could break out at any moment, and people will look to you. I know that you are new to this, and you did not ask for it, but you were chosen. Skaiprisa chose _you._ Whether you like it or not, you were born to be a leader, just as I was.”

Clarke swallowed. “I just wanted Skaiprisa and my family to be safe. I didn’t know about any of this until a month ago. If I had…”

“You would have still come to the Maunon,” Lexa interrupted her. “Your soul would not let you turn away from the people who need you, no matter how unprepared you felt.” The Rider blushed slightly at the praise. “Now go,” Lexa continued. “Rest. We will begin again tomorrow.”

The younger girl moved to obey, heading for the stairs as Skaiprisa took flight. Clarke turned back at the first step. “Lexa?” she called. The Elf looked up from where she seemed deep in thought, her hand fiddling with the hilt of her sword. “For the record, that whole ‘souls’ and ‘duty’ thing – I know that’s important to you, but I need your spirit to stay right where it is.”

Clarke retreated up the stairs without waiting to see what Lexa’s response would be.

* * *

A week went by faster than Clarke could blink. Her mornings were spent flying with Skaiprisa, working on her dragon’s stamina and maneuverability. Afternoons were spent sparring with Lexa, who continued to beat her soundly every round, although Clarke was getting better at holding her off for longer. Lexa had finally confessed that a human, even a Rider (without a good century of experience), could never hope to match the natural speed and grace of a Trigedakru warrior. It made fighting with Lexa seem even more futile, but Clarke felt less discouraged at the fact that she lost every time. Lexa seemed pleased with her progress, in her stoic way.

Evenings were spent learning Trigedasleng and how to use it more effectively with Lexa, and Clarke found this to be her favorite time of the day. She would actually get to have a conversation with the Elf then, and the more she learned, the more she wanted to know about her. Every once in a while, Lexa would let slip a fact about her home or how she’d come to be the envoy of her people and her time as Skaiprisa’s Carrier.

Just that night, when Clarke had spoken of Aurora and the circumstances of her death, and how she missed Octavia, Lexa had brought up her own losses.

“I had someone. Costia. She was my companion and guard for over twenty years along with our friend Tris. She watched over me as I carried Skaiprisa between Polis and Mount Weather, protecting me,” Lexa said, face emotionless, but Clarke could see her eyes speaking volumes. “They died trying to keep me safe from Cage, and I was captured anyway.”

“Did you love her?” Clarke asked gently.

The Commander hesitated. “Love is – different for the Trigedakru. Our long lives do not lull us into a sense of false security, as such, but they do make our emotions much more guarded. If you are to know someone for more than a millennia, then you cannot afford to be rash,” she tried to explain. “Did I love her? Perhaps I may have, given time and the right circumstances. If the Empire had been defeated and we were both still alive, maybe we would have had the time to discover that. But it is not and she is dead, so I cannot know.”

It was the most open Lexa had been for Clarke yet. “I’m sorry,” she finally said. “Thank you for telling me about her.”

Lexa nodded resolutely. “I never thanked you, for – rescuing me.” She said the word with distaste, as if she hated the thought of needing assistance. It made Clarke smile fondly. “You and Skaiprisa – you saved my life. It would seem only fair that I should trust you.”

“I’m starting to understand how hard that is for you,” Clarke reassured her, honored by her words. Lexa nodded. They remained quiet for a while, content to relax against Skaiprisa’s warm side as she napped curled around them.

Eventually, Lexa stood, holding out her hand to help Clarke up. “It is late. You need sleep if we are to go again tomorrow.”

Clarke groaned, her tired and sore muscles protesting the thought of another day like the last week. “Haven’t the Trigedakru heard of days off?” she complained jokingly.

Lexa’s face curled into a barely there smile. “No.” Clarke thought that the Elf _may_ have been teasing her. “Go to bed, Clarke.”

* * *

After leaving Lexa and finally making her way to her bed, Clarke woke after barely an hour of sleep, struggling for air.

 _Klark?_ Skaiprisa asked worriedly from above her. _Klark, what is wrong?_

“Reapers,” Clarke gasped out. “And Urgals.” Images from her dream flashed before her eyes. An amassing army in the forest, the sounds of a waterfall nearby. “Outside Mount Weather. They’re coming.”

_What do we do, Klark?_

“Lexa. We have to tell Lexa. She’ll know what to do,” Clarke decided, trying to calm herself down. “But I don’t know where she sleeps. Or if she’s even sleeping? Do Elves sleep at night? Do they sleep at all when they’re not poisoned?” she questioned frantically.

There was silence for a brief moment. _The Commander is in the Chancellor’s war room. She does not sleep this night, at the very least._

“And how do you know that?” Clarke asked, bewildered.

 _I … I do not know,_ Skaiprisa responded, sounding hesitant. _I can feel her._

“Maybe because she carried you all those years?” Clarke suggested.

 _Perhaps._ The dragon didn’t sound convinced. _There is a connection – but it is not fully formed on her part. It’s like she’s waiting for something, but I do not know what._

Clarke rolled out of bed. “That’s something to worry about later, Prisa. For now, let’s just get to the upper level so we can tell her and the Chancellor that war is coming much sooner than they expected.”

* * *

Clarke found her way to the war room under Skaiprisa’s guidance, only to be stopped by the guards outside. “The Chancellor is not to be disturbed.”

“You really want to let me in,” Clarke insisted. “Trust me. The Chancellor is going to be a lot more disturbed if he doesn’t hear what I have to tell him.”

The guards hesitated, but repeated. “The Chancellor is not to be disturbed.”

Clarke growled in frustration, which Skaiprisa echoed at a much louder volume. The men trembled but held firm. “Just tell him that I –”

The doors opening interrupted Clarke. “Rider,” Lexa greeted. “It’s late.”

“Lexa,” Clarke sighed in relief. “I have to talk to you and the Chancellor. It’s urgent,” she promised.

The Commander immediately stepped aside. “From now on,” she told the guards, “the Dragokru have free entry. Is that clear?”

The guard who had stopped Clarke swallowed nervously. “Yes, ma’am.”

Lexa gestured for Clarke to follow her. “Thank you,” Clarke began, relieved. “I didn’t want to try to force my way past.”

“You are fortunate, then, that Skaiprisa is loud.” The Commander said it so seriously, it took Clarke a moment to figure out that she had made a slight joke.

 _Be careful who you call loud, Carrier,_ Skaiprisa warned. Clarke could feel her amusement.

“Of course, Skaiprisa,” Lexa agreed, but Clarke could see a tiny smirk tilting the corner of her mouth. It made her seem much more approachable.

“Clarke, Skaiprisa!” Wells called out. “What brings you here so late? Lexa and I were just going over the mountain’s defenses.”

“You’re going to need to finish that survey sooner rather than later,” Clarke told him in lieu of a greeting. “You’ve got an army at your door.”

“What do you mean, Clarke?” Lexa asked.

“I – well, I –” Clarke suddenly faltered. Would they believe her dreams or just write her off?

 _Tell them, Klark. Lexa has faith in you,_ her dragon reassured her.

“Clarke, speak what is on your mind,” Lexa said quietly.

“Alright. Sometimes, I have dreams. Dreams about real things. I dreamt about you, Lexa. A lot. I could talk to you, and I think it really happened,” Clarke stumbled through her explanation.

“They did,” Lexa confirmed. “I remember them as well.”

Clarke tried to contain a grin at Lexa. The Elf bothering to remember the blonde teen that mentally invaded her cell at night should not make her that happy. She pushed the thought away to analyze later. “Right. I’ve had other ones as well, but those don’t make sense yet,” she explained more confidently. “But half an hour ago, I had a different dream. Urgals and Reapers in the forest, and the sound of a waterfall close by. Hundreds of them are amassing right outside your front door, Chancellor, I know it.”

“We’ve had no word of activity,” Wells tried to deny, but looked worried all the same.

“The Shade, Cage – he can shield them from detection. Not even Skaiprisa could sense the Reapers following us when we first arrived,” Clarke countered. “They’re here, Chancellor. Whatever army you have, you need to gather it. And evacuate the rest.”

Lexa had been standing with her eyes closed while Clarke finished her pitch. Now, she opened them. “The Rider is correct, Chancellor,” she agreed.

“How can you tell?” Wells asked.

“I spent a significant portion of my captivity in the company of the Shade,” the Commander said with disgust. “I can sense his presence if I am looking for it. He is nearby, and putting out a lot of power. The Empire is here.”

Wells sighed. “Very well. I was voted Chancellor of the Maunon six months ago. I will not see this rebellion fall in my first year of command. I will muster my army and call for the evacuation of the civilians. Carrier – the Dragokru.”

“I will prepare them,” Lexa stepped in. “It is my duty.” She motioned for Clarke and Skaiprisa to follow her, and the pair obeyed.

“So that’s it then?” Clarke asked once they were away from the war room. “The war’s started?”

Lexa sighed. “This is not the war. Thelonius is hoping to execute an extermination, so there will be no war at all.”

Clarke felt sick to her stomach. “It won’t be, right? The Maunon have an army, yeah?”

“They have an army, yes. But not the army the Empire will bring – neither in size nor skill. These are farmers, miners, traders. They train hard and enthusiastically, but I fear it will not be enough,” Lexa said solemnly.

“It has to be,” Clarke insisted. “Skaiprisa and I – and you – we can make up the difference, right?”

“Perhaps. I hope so. Such a dangerous feeling – hope. I had given up on it. Maybe there is some yet,” Lexa mused.

Clarke nodded fiercely. “We’re gonna do this, Lexa. We are going to win – and we’re going to show Thelonious he has something to be afraid of.”

“You need to get ready. Go to your room, get dressed and grab your weapons. Any that you can use. Skaiprisa, come with me,” Lexa ordered.

 _Where to, Carrier?_ Skaiprisa questioned.

Lexa gave her a half smile. “The Grounder clan has kept a gift for you, safe all these years. You will need it for the coming battle. Clarke, I will send the boy Monty to show you where to meet us.”

“Okay.” _You be good,_ she told her dragon.

Skaiprisa huffed smoke at her. _You’re the one always getting into trouble._ She padded along after Lexa, leaving Clarke on her own.

The Rider sprinted down the two flights of stairs to her new room. She rushed to throw on clothes that allowed her the largest range of motion.

“Clarke, what’s going on?” Anya’s sleep-addled voice filtered over from the other side of the room.

Clarke jumped in fright. She’d forgotten about her friend in her rush to get to Lexa. “ _Skrish_ , Anya!” she complained. The older blonde laughed quietly. “You have to get up. There’s an army of Urgals and Reapers outside the mountain. We’re going to have to fight.”

Anya rolled out of bed and began dressing as well. “Good. I’ve been itching for a good fight,” she said, grimly cheerful. “This rebel army is not very challenging.”

“They’d better be more challenging tonight, or this is going to be a very short war,” Clarke answered.

“Clarke,” Monty interjected, having just arrived to fetch her. “The Carrier sent me.”

“I’ll be right there, thanks Monty. I’d find the Chancellor, he’ll give you an assignment,” Clarke finished with Anya as she strapped Azswis to her waist. “I have to go meet Lexa and Skaiprisa.” She hesitated, then went over and gave Anya a short hug, letting go before the older girl could return it. “Don’t die,” she requested, quickly leaving the room with Monty.

“You won’t be fighting will you?” Clarke asked Monty worriedly as they rushed to the ground level.

Monty shook his head. “Not on the front lines, no. I’m good with my brain, not my hands. I specialize in plants and chemicals. I can’t cut anyone in half, but I can make an entire army sick if I have the time and resources. I’ll be on the upper levels, hopefully doing some damage from there.”

Clarke only nodded, relieved and impressed. Monty was a good kid. Brave, too. She’d hate for him to die in a war he didn’t know how to fight.

* * *

“Dragon Rider,” Lexa greeted when Monty delivered her, but Clarke was too busy staring at Skaiprisa in awe to reply.

“Look at you,” she whispered, circling around and inspecting her dragon. Skaiprisa was decked out in shining silver armor that complemented her scales perfectly, although she doubted that was by design. “Fierce and beautiful.” Skaiprisa preened at the compliment. “The Grounder clan are just giving this to us?” she asked Lexa, still staring at her dragon.

The Elf nodded. “The dwarves have been keeping this for when the Dragon Riders would return. Each plate has straps that are designed to lengthen as Skaiprisa grows. It should fit her for many years. They have matching set for you.” She pulled out pieces of armor that somehow looked like it would fit Clarke perfectly, although she wondered how they had managed that.

“If we survive this, I’ll have to thank them profusely.”

 _I as well_ , Skaiprisa agreed.

“They were honored to give this to you. It is their contribution.”

Clarke looked at Lexa for the first time since entering the room, and was startled to see that she was wearing some kind of black paint over her eyes. It was spread thickly around her eyes and dripped down her cheeks, imitating tear tracks. “Is that war paint, or something?” she asked curiously.

“Yes, it is a Trigedakru tradition. The Riders of the past adopted it as well.” There was a pause, almost hesitation. “Would you like some?” Lexa offered.

The teen nodded silently. Maybe it would give her more confidence.

“Then come here. Sit on the table.” Clarke did as directed, jumping up and settling nervously on the hard surface. Lexa picked up a small bowl and came to stand in front of Clarke, stepping between her legs. Clarke gulped. “Every person’s paint is unique,” Lexa explained quietly. “Do you have a preference?”

Clarke shook her head. “Do whatever you think is best.”

Lexa dipped two fingers in the thick liquid. “Close your eyes,” she murmured. Clarke obeyed, and tried very hard to hold still when she felt Lexa’s hand run delicately across her eyelid. “This is a very – personal – act,” Lexa continued. “It is usually done by yourself or by a close friend or relative. I have never done it for someone else before.”

“I trust you,” Clarke whispered, meaning it for more than Lexa just painting ground up charcoal paste on her face.

Lexa didn’t take very long and finished in silence. “You can open your eyes now,” she allowed. The Elf held up a shard of mirror so Clarke could see what she had done.

The paint was not spread as thickly on Clarke’s face as Lexa had put on herself. It covered above and below her eyes, crossed the bridge of her nose, and spread in a straight line to her hair line just above her ears. Clarke smiled. “I look dangerous.”

Lexa was more serious. “You will need to be. If Mount Weather is lost, the Maunon resistance will not recover,” she informed Clarke. “Many peoples’ survival will depend on you tonight.”

“Isn’t the point of the resistance to give people a chance to live?” Clarke questioned. “We’ve been just surviving for a hundred years. All that time – don’t you think we finally deserve better?”

Lexa was still between her legs, which Clarke had become infinitely more aware of. She saw Lexa’s eyes drop – looking at her lips? “Maybe we do,” the Commander whispered, and then she was kissing her.

It was soft – much gentler than Clarke would have expected from the fierce Commander. Not that she’d thought about kissing Lexa. Hadn’t thought about it at all, those long months dreaming about her and this week finally being able to get to know her. Who was she kidding? That just made Clarke want it more.

She couldn’t lie to herself. She’d wanted to kiss Lexa since the first time they’d spoken in her dreams.

The blonde sank into the kiss, allowing Lexa to lead, which she did with utmost care. It was when Lexa broke the kiss momentarily, brushed their noses together, and then leaned in for a better angle that Clarke pulled away. Lexa let her go immediately and stepped back a pace. Clarke instantly missed Lexa’s heat between her legs.

“It’s not the right time,” Clarke told her, not wanting Lexa to think she wasn’t interested in continuing. She was _very_ interested. “Not yet. We’re going to be fighting for our lives, and I don’t want to start something and then have one of us die in the next twenty-four hours.” Lexa merely nodded once, her face entirely lacking emotion. “That being said,” Clarke continued, wanting to make sure Lexa understood, “I need you to live through this battle so we can talk about this. Because I want to talk about…this,” she waved her hand between the two of them.

Lexa’s face softened a bit, and she nodded once more. “I will endeavor to remain alive then, Dragon Rider,” she promised, and something in Clarke’s stomach loosened in relief.

“Thank you,” she breathed.

“I must meet with the Chancellor before the battle. He will decide where you will be of the best use,” Lexa changed the subject. “Until then, wait for me in the main courtyard.”

Clarke nodded. “I’ll see you there, then.” When Lexa left the room, Clarke’s mind wandered back to the kiss and how good it felt.

_What was that?_

Clarke jumped. She’d forgotten about Skaiprisa. How could she forget her dragon was in the room? “Geez, Skaiprisa!”

 _What was that?_ Skaiprisa asked again.

“What was what?”

_That – thing that you just did with Lexa. What was it?_

“Oh, kissing?”

_Why?_

Clarke shrugged. “Because.”

_But, why?_

Clarke rolled her eyes, at a loss of how to explain human actions to the dragon. “Because – people do it, alright? To – I don’t know – to express affection.”

_You have – affection – for Lexa?_

Clarke startled. “No! Yes. No – I don’t know! A war is literally about to start and this is what you want to talk about Prisa?”

 _I do not understand this kissing,_ Skaiprisa told her, frustrated.

“You and me both,” Clarke sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lexa’s so useless. She just had a whole spiel not twelve hours earlier about how her people do not rush into things and emotions are to be carefully analyzed and then she just lands one on Clarke. Get it together, Lexa.
> 
> Also, for the purposes of this fic, assume Wells is not Thelonius’ son.


	11. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The great battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while - I had a major case of block for the second half, and the last month has been insanely crazy. But enjoy!

****

When she was able to pull herself together after the kiss, Clarke obeyed Lexa’s order and worked her way to the main courtyard with Skaiprisa. Anya was there waiting for them, looking antsy and ready for a fight. She gave Clarke a terse nod, and they waited in silence for Lexa to come back.

“You!” an angry voice shouted. The three spun to see a livid Dante walking as fast as he could towards them. “This is your fault!”

“What are you talking about?” Clarke demanded, befuddled.

Dante tried to tower over Clarke to look threatening, but a snap of the teeth from Skaiprisa had him backing away. “You’re protecting the spy!” He pointed accusingly at Anya, who frowned.

Clarke gripped her sword, ready to defend her friend. “How dare –”

“What is the meaning of this?” Wells’ authoritative voice interrupted.

Still shaking with rage, Dante gestured at the group. “Chancellor, do you really believe this to be a coincidence?” he asked incredulously. “These three show up, and all of a sudden an army is at our door, ready to massacre us. Surely you cannot be so naïve.”

“Have a care how you speak, Dante,” Wells warned the older man. “I have seen no proof that the Rider or her friends are spies.”

“That woman is the only person within these walls I have not cleared mentally,” Dante declared, as if that were proof enough. “She refuses me entry into her mind, and that is reason enough to lock her–”

“No!” Clarke butted in. “You do not get to accuse anyone – you do not get to _blame_ anyone for this when this is all Thelonious and his pet _monster_ Cage.” Dante’s jaw clenched at her words, which Clarke noted, but dismissed for the time being. “You have been trying to sabotage me and get rid of all of us since before I even came out of that waterfall. If anyone is going to be throwing blame around, it will be me and I will be starting with _you_.” Dante flinched. Clarke scoffed and turned to Wells. “You have nothing to fear from us, but that army out there is a different story. You wouldn’t even know about it if it wasn’t for me.”

Wells looks to Lexa, who merely nods her head in approval of Clarke’s words. “I’m disappointed, Dante,” Wells said quietly. “I expected better from you. Return to your post, and if you’re lucky, I will forget about your indiscretion when this battle is over.”

Dante wavered for a moment, glaring at all of them before he left in a huff. Skaiprisa growled after him, Clarke rubbing her neck to soothe her.

“Again, I am sorry for Dante’s actions,” Wells sighed, casting an apologetic look at Anya, who nodded. “Rest assured, I do not doubt either of your actions. I have to speak to my men. Anya, it would reassure me if you were to oversee a group of my more talented warriors in this battle. I have seen your skill in the last week, and your ability to lead, and I was impressed.”

Anya looked startled, but accepted. “I would be honored, Chancellor.”

Wells turned his gaze to Clarke next. “Rider, Skaiprisa, good luck. May the gods watch over us all tonight.” When he left, Anya followed him, leaving Clarke, Skaiprisa, and Lexa alone.

“You are ready, Clarke,” Lexa broke the silence. “You will not fall this night.”

Clarke only nodded, trying to swallow a lump in her throat. “Can I have a minute with Prisa? Alone?” she choked out. Lexa quietly backed out of earshot. Out of the corner of her eye, Clarke spotted Abby for the first time since she had arrived at Mount Weather, watching her intently from the shadows. A small, darker-skinned boy stood behind her, knife in hand. His eyes reminded Clarke of Jackson’s, but she dismissed the pair for a moment to speak with her dragon.

 _This will not be our last night together, Klark_ , Skaiprisa pre-empted her.

Clarke let out a chuckle that sounded more like a sob and threw her arms around the neck of her dragon. Skaiprisa hummed comfortingly, blowing warm air over her Rider’s back. _You know I love you more than anyone else in the world, right?_ Clarke asked desperately.

_I do, little one. Just as I love you._

_No matter what happens, I needed to make sure you knew that._ Clarke let go of Skaiprisa reluctantly, and Lexa came back over to stand by her side.

* * *

They were waiting. The army of monsters was approaching, but there was no telling how long it would take for them to breach the walls. And so they waited. Clarke was on Skaiprisa’s back, ready to fly. Lexa stood by Skaiprisa’s shoulder, silently keeping them company as they overlooked the sea of torches that lit their army.

“When this is over, you should come with me to Polis,” Lexa broke their quiet vigil. “There is much you could learn, both about my people and your legacy.”

Clarke looked down at the Elf, who met her gaze. “You’ve already taught me so much. But yes. Skaiprisa and I think that would be the best option for us, provided we’re all still alive and the resistance survives.”

Lexa nods, a tiny smile almost hidden on her cheeks. Clarke _just_ got a glimpse of it. She wished Lexa had reason to smile more. Although it seemed to be coming out a little more often in the past couple days. Clarke wished that maybe it was because of her, but she didn’t want to get her hopes up.

“We will most likely become separated throughout the course of the battle,” Lexa continued. “If that happens, you must not panic. Trust yourself and Skaiprisa. I will come back as I am able.”

Clarke nodded. “What about Cage?” she asked. She’d suddenly remembered she had no idea how to kill him. “Anya shot him through the head with an arrow, and he just disappeared into smoke. But he was fine. Is it even possible to kill him?”

“Yes, though it is difficult and usually takes more than one person,” Lexa explained. “A Shade can only be killed by being stabbed through the heart. Anything else will only slow him down. The _keryon wamplei (souls of death)_ that sustain him also give him other advantages. He is preternaturally fast, almost as strong as a _Trigedakru_ , and his magical skills are enhanced. But it is an abomination of _Trigedasleng_. He mutilates words, mangles them into something wrong,” Lexa finished on a growl. “If possible, do not face him alone. Wait until I am with you.”

“I’ll try,” Clarke was saying when a frantic shout sounded from below in the tunnels. _So that’s where they found a way in._

“Urgals!” it interrupted. A couple people screamed, but Clarke sat calmly on Skaiprisa. It wasn’t the Urgals that worried her. It was the soulless eyes of the Reapers that haunted her dreams at night. Nevertheless, she drew her sword and prepared herself for a battle she wasn’t sure she knew how to fight. Clarke knew nothing about battle tactics and strategy – Jake had taught her some, but most of her knowledge still consisted of stick the pointy end in the monster.

“Lexa?” she murmured worriedly.

Lexa rested a hand on her ankle. “Calm, Clarke,” she soothed. “You and Skaiprisa know what to do. All you have to do is stay alive.”

Archers were firing now, trying to shore up the front line as a horde of Urgals attacked. Clarke and Lexa had mere seconds before the fight would be on them.

“Remember, your priority is to find Cage. Assist the battlefield where you can, but you _must_ find Cage,” Lexa said hurriedly as the fighting drew nearer. “Find him, and wait for me.”

“I will,” Clarke promised, and then they were separated by an influx of fighters retreating in the face of the army of Urgals and the newly arrived Reapers. _Prisa, in the air!_

 _Yes,_ Skaiprisa agreed eagerly. Clarke could feel her anticipation for the battle, ready to partake.

 _At least one of us will enjoy tonight_ , Clarke thought, still uneasy about the lives she would have to take. The Urgals were here of their own accord – she wouldn’t mind fighting them – but the Reapers were innocents. They hadn’t chosen to become monsters. But Clarke couldn’t afford to think that way.

As soon as Skaiprisa was above the battlefield, it became clear that there was at least one advantage they had without Clarke lifting a finger – the Urgals were terrified of the dragon. The Reapers took no notice as they ignored everything but the next foe to rip into and spill the blood they thirsted for, but the Urgals quickly broke ranks whenever Skaiprisa flew overhead, making them easier prey for the Maunon army.

Clarke did what she could from the air with _Trigedasleng_ , muttering phrases that dropped loose rocks from cliffs onto pockets of Urgals. “ _Hod op, jus en klaka_ ,” she whispered the hated words at individual Urgals that were overpowering their opponent, saving lives in exchange. She’s lost track of Lexa ages ago, and was desperately trying to find Cage. But it didn’t look like he’d put in an appearance yet, otherwise the battle would probably going worse.

It already wasn’t going very well, from what Clarke’s untrained eye could see. The Maunon were being pushed back, and Clarke spotted Anya in the midst of it, surrounded by a horde of Urgals and Reapers alike. _Skaiprisa, land!_ she cried.

The dragon dove toward the ground, gleefully crushing three Urgals and a Reaper beneath her legs. Clarke leapt off Skaiprisa and tore into the remaining creatures around Anya, fighting until she could get back to back with her friend. Skaiprisa kept everyone else away as the two women killed the last few Urgals.

“Thanks,” Anya panted, dashing sweat out of her eyes. “Get back up there – I’ll be fine.”

“Stay alive,” Clarke warned, leaping onto Skaiprisa’s back. The dragon took off once more. Clarke searched for Cage, needing to find him sooner before this battle worsened. Then a terrible thought occurred to her.

_Oh no…_

_Klark?_ Her dragon asked.

She had to talk to Lexa. But the Elf was nowhere to be found. She would have to speak with her a different way. Unsure of what she was doing, Clarke tentatively reached out mentally as Skaiprisa kept her out of harm’s way.

 _Lexa?_ She asked tentatively, searching for the light of the correct mind. She hadn’t tried this from a distance before. Or around thousands of others.

A reply came through a few moments later. _I am occupied, Clarke._ Lexa’s voice was strained. _What is it?_

Clarke hesitated. _If we kill Cage – what will happen to the Reapers?_

There was a pause. _The Reapers are Cage’s creation – his monstrosities. They are tied to him. When he dies, so will they,_ Lexa finally said.

The blonde bit her lip. _There’s no way to save them?_ She asked desperately.

 _Not that I am aware of. If there was, I would try. You cannot think about it, Clarke. You must save those you can,_ Lexa declared.

 _How do I not care?_ Clarke shook her head. _I can’t just shut down my emotions. I’m not like the Trigedakru._

 _I can control my emotions – it does not mean that I do not feel them,_ Lexa growled as she threw an Urgal away from herself. _I will debate this with you later. I am busy. Find Cage._ She broke the connection.

Cursing and with a sinking stomach, Clarke continued her search for Cage. _Can you feel him at all, Prisa?_ she asked.

The dragon was silent for a moment. _I don’t – there is a small disturbance, although it is mostly shrouded,_ she responded.

_Where?_

_In the upper reaches. I cannot land there without causing serious damage to the foundations or possibly injuring you._

Clarke looked where Skaiprisa had indicated. She couldn’t see anything, but now she could feel the power too, and every time it flared, a swathe of Maunon fell to the ground and moved no more. They were out of time.

 _Just get me close,_ Clarke decided. The disturbance had to be Cage. There wasn’t anyone else with that much power.

Skaiprisa didn’t like that idea. _You cannot face him alone, little one,_ she protested adamantly. _How can I help you if I can’t even land? We should wait for Lexa._

 _If we do nothing, then by the time we find Lexa and get her here, the resistance will be dead. I can keep him occupied, so he doesn’t kill anyone else, while you find Lexa and bring her here. It’s all we can do,_ Clarke tried to convince her.

She could feel her dragon sigh mentally. _Very well,_ she agreed reluctantly. _But if you get killed, know that I will be angry._

Clarke grinned weakly. _Duly noted. I consider myself warned._

Skaiprisa glided as close to the pavilion as she could. Clarke brought her feet up to the saddle and leapt, rolling as she landed safely on the stone floor. She nodded at her dragon, who took off towards the battle below once more. Clarke ran up the steps to the top landing, freezing at the last stair.

There Cage stood, looking exactly the same as back in Shenzen and no worse for taking an arrow to the forehead. Clarke reached out with her mind, hoping to take the Shade by surprise, but recoiled when Cage lashed out mentally. He tsk-ed. “Bad manners, Rider,” he reprimanded her, turning to face her.

“Like you cared about manners when you tortured your prisoners,” the Rider spat back.

Cage scoffed. “You mean the Elf? She was worthless – not even worth the manpower. You, on the other hand…I wonder how long it would take to break you,” he mused. “Or perhaps _what_ it would take is the better question. You’re no longer of use to Jaha, now that you have declared your intentions as a traitor. I can do as I wish with you. You know, Riders live on after their dragon is killed, although they say such a life is meaningless.”

Clarke grit her teeth at the implied threat, trying to keep a hold on her temper. “You won’t touch her,” she growled.

“And how will you stop me? You barely lasted two minutes before,” Cage taunted. “Too bad the Maunon couldn’t find an actual warrior to be their champion. No, they got a farmer instead.”

“I know – ‘you expected more’,” Clarke threw back at him, raising her sword. “Well, I’m what they’ve got, so why don’t you stop talking about it and kill me already? Or are you afraid you can’t? As I recall, last time you got shot in the head. _That_ can’t have felt good.”

Cage howled in rage, seeming to cross the open space between them in an instant and bringing his sword down to meet hers. Expecting his overwhelming strength, Clarke held up better than in Shenzen, gritting her teeth and throwing him back. He was in front of her again just as quickly, and Clarke was hard-pressed to meet each of his swings.

They traded blows, although Clarke was mostly on the defensive. He was just too _fast_. Sparring with Lexa had helped, but she could only just hold her own. She could barely keep him from slicing her open every time his sword came down. She hoped Skaiprisa was on her way with Lexa, because she wasn’t going to last much longer without some help.

Finally, she saw an opening. Without thinking about the possibility of a trap, Clarke lunged for Cage’s heart, only for the Shade to disappear in a cloud of smoke. Clarke stumbled through where he had been, just able to regain her feet. She looked around frantically, trying to see where the Shade would reappear.

Agony racing up her spine as a sword cleaving through her armored back clued her in to where Cage now was. Clarke screamed and collapsed to one knee, her vision going dark as the pain running from her hip to her shoulder overwhelmed her. She fell entirely to the ground, her limbs worse than useless, and could only watch as Cage raised his sword for the last time.

“You’re right. I expected more,” the Shade jeered. “So ends the last free Rider. I wonder what the screams of a dying dragon sound like,” he taunted.

Clarke’s vision was blurring, but she couldn’t mistake the large creature flying overhead, shrieking her rage. _Skaiprisa_ , she murmured weakly.

Fire spread across the sky, startling the Shade away from the Rider. _Get up, Clarke_ , her dragon demanded.

Clarke tried to roll to her feet, but barely made it onto her elbows before the pain was too much. She collapsed back to the ground, her back screaming in pain.

It took the sight of Lexa leaping off of Skaiprisa’s back, only to be confronted immediately by a fierce magical attack from Cage, for Clarke to grit her teeth and haul herself into a standing position once more. The Elf and the Shade appeared to be on fairly even ground magic wise, both frozen in position as they dueled mentally. Clarke could see Lexa’s knees starting to tremble, though, the multitude of souls trapped within Cage making him difficult to contain even for the powerful Commander.

Clarke limped forward, not even bothering with attempting to be quiet. Cage was distracted with Lexa. Skaiprisa was lending her strength, allowing her to stumble up behind the Shade, unsheathing her dagger. Just then, a great burst of power from Cage blew Lexa backwards through the air and into a wall. He whirled to find the Rider, but Clarke was ready for him.

Without hesitation, she plunged the knife into his chest, burying it to the hilt in his heart. “For Aurora,” she growled, letting him drop to the ground as he screamed in rage.

The body never hit the floor. It exploded into a swarm of black, surrounding Clarke for a moment. Shrieks and howls filled her ears, and she clapped her hands over them in a vain attempt to shield herself, falling to her knees. She felt the life of five hundred and fifty flit out of the Reapers’ bodies, all of them collapsing to the ground at once as their keeper died. It was agony entirely different but even more painful than that still coursing through her back.

She pushed it aside, though. “Lexa,” she murmured, stumbling to her feet. She needn’t have worried. The Elf was already and up and making her way to Clarke, catching the Rider when she tripped. Clarke groaned in pain. “The Urgals,” she managed.

“They must be dealt with,” Lexa acknowledged, “or we may yet lose this battle.”

Despite the loss of the Reapers, the Urgals still seemed to be pushing the Maunon back, slaughtering as they went. “I have to end it,” Clarke whispered.

 _You are too weak, Klark_ , Skaiprisa protested.

“Our duty, remember?” Clarke said faintly, reminding her of their conversation so long ago. “To all.”

“Take my strength,” Lexa offered.

 _And mine,_ Skaiprisa ordered, not willing to fight with her Rider.

Clarke obeyed, opening herself to them and feeling power flood through her, almost making her feel good as new. She reached out, searching for the lives of every Urgal in the Mountain. “ _Frag emo op, hod op, emo jus en klaka (Kill them all, halt their blood and blone)”_ , she whispered.

One by one, Urgals fell to the ground and moved no more. Each left Clarke feeling further drained as the spell continued moving through the ranks. Maunon that had been in battles of life and death were suddenly left with no enemy to face. Those in the midst of a swing stumbled when they met only air.

Each death etched another gash into Clarke’s heart, continuing to bleed from the five hundred and fifty innocents already murdered once by Cage and again by her. Tears ran down her face as she watched the Urgals fall. She collapsed when she felt the new death toll hit four hundred, Lexa catching her once more even as she weakened from sharing her power with Clarke. The deaths finally ended at four hundred and sixty-two – over one thousand souls now sitting squarely on Clarke’s own.

It had been horrifyingly easy, Clarke thought wildly as she gasped for air. Despite the power drain shared with Lexa and Skaiprisa that would have been enough to kill her if she’d been on her own. It should never be that easy to kill so many people. She wanted to throw up, but was so weak her stomach could barely even heave.

“Clarke. _Klark,_ ” Lexa was calling worriedly, laying her on the ground. “Clarke, look at me. _Please_ , Clarke.”

The younger girl managed to concentrate on the Elf. “I brought down the Mountain,” she whispered, then laughed, grimacing in pain as her back made itself known once more.

“Clarke, focus on me,” Lexa demanded, her face full of fear. “Look at me!”

The Rider honestly tried, fixing blurring eyes on the beautiful Commander. She shook the thought from her head, blaming it on her failing lucidity. _I’m a murderer,_ she thought hazily.

 _No, Klark,_ Lexa replied mentally. _You saved the Maunon. Perhaps everyone._

 _Not myself,_ Clarke sighed before darkness finally stole her consciousness.


	12. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the Mountain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it's been forever, I know. I'm in my last month of grad school and apparently that means pile everything on top of itself and kill your students. Also I got sucked into writing a soulmate AU that distracted me for a while. But I'm back! Heads up, though - this isn't a happy chapter. Clarke is very much in a post S2 mindset after what happened in the last chapter, and it's not pleasant. So yeah, this chapter is just kind of one big suckfest for Clarke. But it won't be like that forever, I promise!

Lexa watched the sorceress she had known for far longer than either of their ages belied approach Clarke’s prone form warily. Abby only had eyes for the unconscious teenager. “I can heal her, Commander,” she promised when Lexa moved to get between Abby and Clarke despite her current weakness, protective of the unconscious Rider. “I can at least fix her back so it won’t pain her.”

“And what about the mental anguish she’ll feel when she finds out who you are?” Lexa asked harshly, taking a stab in the dark that she knew was true when Abby flinched. “She’s the child you gave up, isn’t she?”

Skaiprisa growled, and Abby looked over at the dragon apprehensively, swallowing hard. Jackson, now back in his feline form, rubbed against Skaprisa’s paw, purring loudly to calm her. “I gave her up to protect her. You knew that. Her father and I…she would have never been safe. Sending her to my sister with Jake allowed her a normal childhood and kept her out of harm’s way. Now please, let me heal my daughter.”

Lexa glared a moment longer, but her worry for Clarke made her move out of her protective stance between mother and daughter. Abby quickly knelt down beside the blonde, rolling her gently onto her stomach. “I need you to be by her head and distract her if she wakes up,” Abby instructed. “I have to clear out the curse before I can close it up.”

 _Curse?_ Skaiprisa asked frantically.

Lexa repeated the question for her. “What curse?”

“Cage kept it imbedded in his blade. I can feel it from here,” Abby explained. “Even if I healed the wound, if I didn’t get rid of the magic first, Clarke would be plagued by pain.” Her voice cracked on Clarke’s name, but she continued her work. “But clearing it is going to hurt. I need you to put her back to sleep if she begins to wake.”

Lexa nodded silently, and Abby got to work. Lexa had to help her strip the rent and broken armor from Clarke’s torso, and Skaiprisa growled at the sight of the gaping wound in Clarke’s back. _Abby will heal her,_ Lexa reassured the dragon. Abby muttered something under her breath, her hands already busy smashing a bowl of plant matter.

Clarke whimpered when the paste was slathered on her back. “Is she waking up?” Abby asked as she placed her hands on either side of the gash.

Lexa checked. The Rider’s eyes remained closed, but the whining continued and Clarke had started twitching. “No. Can she feel what you’re doing?”

“She shouldn’t.” Abby sounded confused. “I put a numbing on her. She shouldn’t be able to feel a thing for a few hours.”

 _Obviously it is not working, witch,_ Skaprisa growled.

 _Enough, Skaiprisa,_ Lexa ordered. _She is trying to help Clarke._ The dragon subsided.

Clarke’s whimpering persisted. Lexa began to speak quietly to her in _Trigedasleng_ , hoping that it would help to calm the unconscious Rider. It seemed to work, and Clarke stopped fidgeting, although her pained noises continued. Abby quickly busied herself with her healing.

Slowly – so slowly Lexa wasn’t sure anything was happening at first – the ugly wound on Clarke’s back began to close up. New skin stitched itself together before her eyes, and Lexa breathed a silent exhale of relief.

Finally, Abby sat back with a tired sigh after some minutes spent hunched over her daughter. “She should be fine, now,” she informed Lexa, sounding relieved. “She just needs to sleep off the weariness from all her power usage. It may be a couple days before she wakes.”

“And what then, Abigail?” Lexa asked. “Will you tell Clarke who you really are?”

Abby hesitated. “It’s too risky,” she decided.

“Or are you just afraid?” Lexa accused her old friend. “Afraid Clarke would not forgive you your betrayal? She’s already lost her father – don’t you think that’s enough?”

The staring contest between the Elf and the witch was broken up by Anya rushing up the stairs onto the landing. “Is Clarke okay?” she gasped, leaning down to put her hands on her knees and catch her breath after sprinting up eight flights of stairs.

Lexa moved aside so Anya could see her friend. “She will recover, Anya,” she said stoically. “But she should be moved to her room. It is safe to do so?” she asked Abby, who nodded.

“Her back shouldn’t bother her any further. Everything else,” she sighed, “that’s another story. But she can and should be moved to a bed.”

“I can do that,” Anya offered. “The Chancellor wants you down on the ground,” she told Lexa. “Dante’s kicking up a huge fuss and no one’s quite sure why. He went crazy after the Reapers fell.” Lexa gave the woman a nod, moving towards the stairs. “Commander?” Anya called after her. “The Reapers – they just all collapsed. And then the Urgals. What caused that?” she asked.

The Elf looked sadly at the blonde Rider still unconscious on her cloak. “Clarke.”

 _And us,_ Skaiprisa reminded her.

“And us,” Lexa agreed. “We are all responsible for the lives taken today. But Clarke cast the spell. I would have done so – spared her – but that amount of power would be enough to kill either of us. A dragon can share their strength to save their Rider, but _only_ their Rider. It had to be Clarke, and I could only assist to ensure she survived. When she wakes, she will need you Anya. She will believe that she is alone in becoming a murderer tonight – that will weigh on her.”

“I’ll be here when she wakes up,” Anya promised. “What about you? Will you be okay?”

Lexa sighed. “We did what was necessary. I have learned this lesson before and I understood the need for it today. Clarke has not had that chance. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She hesitated before brushing damp hair out of Clarke’s face and placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. “ _Reshop, Klark,”_ she whispered before leaving to deal with the old and troublesome sorcerer.

* * *

Clarke felt trapped. She watched as a young woman was cut down by an Urgal, the man next to her set upon by a Reaper. The man screamed as the Reaper latched onto his shoulder with its teeth. Clarke turned away, but the perspective changed.

Now _she_ was wrenching her sword through a middle aged man, and when she looked down, the hands of an Urgal met her gaze. She could taste the blood in a Reaper’s mouth as it howled its satisfaction of another kill.

 _No, no, no!_ She tried to scream, but nothing came out. She was trapped, paralyzed. There was no escape.

 _This is what you are_ , a disembodied voice hissed at her as the Reaper she was imprisoned in killed another Maunon. _You are no better than these creatures. And you called_ them _the monsters._ It laughed gleefully.

 _No,_ Clarke denied weakly. _I tried to save everyone._

 _YOU KILLED EVERYONE_!

* * *

Clarke woke up screaming.

Anya scrambled to her side, doing her best to calm the panicking girl. “Clarke! Clarke, look at me! You’re okay!” Skaiprisa was growling and whimpering – Anya knew she was probably trying to reach her Rider as well, but she didn’t appear to be having any better luck.

The screams cut off abruptly, but Clarke’s eyes remained wide and unfocused, staring in terror at nothing before she collapsed back onto the bed. “Clarke!” Anya shook the teen gently, then moved her hands to cup her face. “Clarke, listen to me. Listen to my voice – to Prisa,” she coached. “You’re safe. Whatever you’re seeing, it’s not real. Come back, _branwada_.”

She thought she was getting through to her friend, but then Clarke’s eyes rolled to the back of her head and she started writhing. Anya tried to keep her still, to prevent Clarke from hurting herself, but the Rider just struggled more, yelling incoherently in a language Anya didn’t know.

Skaiprisa growled. “I don’t know what’s wrong, Prisa!” Anya protested, guessing the dragon’s meaning. “I can’t fix this, something’s wrong. Stay with her. I’m going to get Lexa.” She ran out before the dragon could respond – not that she would have understood it anyway.

Anya took the stairs two at a time, sprinting as fast as she could.

* * *

Clarke could feel the menace filling Cage’s soul as he forced all of his power into subduing Lexa. She could feel his glee as he flung the Commander into the stone wall and watched her collapse to the ground.

 _No!_ She screamed when Lexa lay unmoving. But the scene switched too quickly – she was powerless.

When she wasn’t greeted with further signs of battle, Clarke wanted to breathe a sigh of relief. But then she felt Dante’s fury – fury over his son’s death and vowing vengeance against the Maunon. He shouted insults at Lexa while she merely stood her ground and stared impassively. _She’ll pay for what she did to my Cage,_ he growled.

Clarke felt the souls of a thousand creatures die once more, now stuck in her own mind as she, Skaiprisa, and Lexa snuffed lives out one by one. She wished she could vomit. She watched the Reapers fall in one wave and then the Urgals in patches, feeling it as if it were the first time all over again. She couldn’t shut her eyes, or even look away.

 _Please, make it stop,_ she begged.

 _This is what you are, Wanheda,_ that disembodied voice laughed gleefully.

 _No. No, I didn’t want this_ , Clarke cried out.

 _You felt them die – were you not proud?_ It sneered.

Clarke shook her head. _Please_ , she whispered. _Please just kill me and get it over with._

_We are far from done, Wanheda._

* * *

“Lexa!”

The call of her name distracted the Elf from the furious sorcerer in front of her. “Anya,” she said, surprised. “You are supposed to be with Clarke.”

Anya staggered to a stop in front of her. “Something’s wrong. Clarke – she – she won’t stop screaming. She’s convulsing – Skaiprisa and I can’t calm her down.” The words tripped over themselves to be heard.

Dread settled in Lexa’s stomach. “Stay here,” she commanded. “Do not, under any circumstances, take your eyes off of him.” She pointed at Dante.

“I’ve got this. Go,” Anya agreed. Lexa rushed back up the stairs. Anya glared at Dante, her distrust clear. Surprisingly, the old man smirked back, despite being held tightly by two strong and uninjured warriors.

“The Dragon Rider’s not doing so well, is she?” he sneered.

Anya growled but held herself back. She didn’t know what was going on, but with Clarke acting the way she was, and Dante all of a sudden calm, she wasn’t sure that she liked where things were going. “You just stay there and shut up,” she ordered.

“And what if I don’t?”

* * *

Lexa ran faster than she ever had in her life – even when Cage had been pursuing her in the forest all that time ago. She could hear the screams long before she reached the uppermost floor. She didn’t know what was wrong with Clarke, but Lexa prayed that she wasn’t too late.

“Skaiprisa!” she called as she burst through the door. “What happened?”

 _She is trapped, Carrier,_ Skaiprisa answered mournfully. _Some darkness shrouds her. I cannot pull Klark free._

Lexa knelt beside the still seizing Rider, pressing her palms to Clarke’s temples. The Elf closed her eyes, willing herself to sink gently into the younger girl’s mind, not wanting to cause her any more pain. Inside was a whirlwind of screams and torment – Lexa could barely feel Clarke’s presence within her own mind. _Klark_ , she called.

There wasn’t an answer. Not knowing what else to do – she’d never seen the like – Lexa began pulling at the webs of blackness, dispelling them inch by inch, yelling for Clarke all the while. _Don’t give up now,_ she whispered. _Klark!_

 _Lexa!_ A faint whisper finally came back to her. Lexa sighed in relief and began struggling toward the sound of Clarke’s voice. The force of the darkness seemed to grow stronger the nearer she came to the origin of Clarke’s call. The Commander grit her teeth and shoved onward determinedly.

Finally, she stumbled into a small area that was free of the cloying darkness. And there Clarke was, standing in the middle of it, casting her eyes wildly about as though looking for an enemy she couldn’t see. _Klark_ , Lexa murmured, but the other girl didn’t hear her. Instead, the blonde flinched suddenly, clasping her arms over her head protectively and falling to the ground.

 _Please,_ Clarke begged. _Please just kill me and get it over with._

 _We are far from done, Wanheda_ , a voice Lexa vaguely recognized intoned gleefully.

 _Cage_ , she snarled. Even dead, the Shade was still torturing them. She swept in front of a kneeling Clarke, acting as a barrier between the girl and the malignant spirits Cage had consumed to become powerful. _You won’t have her. Your fight is over._ Lexa gathered the remaining power she had, ready to hurl it at the lingering Shade.

The disembodied voice laughed, seemingly amused by her interference. _You’ve already lost her, little Elf,_ he sneered.

 _Ai ban yu au (I banish you),_ Lexa yelled. _Wamplei rein nou raun hir! (Death has no place here!)_ She expelled the power she had, directing it as the Shade. It shrieked, struggling against her will long enough to worry Lexa, but it eventually proved to be in vain. Slowly, the dark presence in Clarke’s mind began to fade. Lexa dropped to the floor beside Clarke’s still cowering body, and gently reached out. _Klark,_ she called softly. _Klark, it is safe now. You can wake up._

 _No,_ Clarke denied, not looking at Lexa. The visions had ended, but she didn’t trust that they were truly over. _This is a trick. I know what I did so please just stop._

 _Klark,_ Lexa said more firmly. _It is time to leave this place. Skaiprisa is waiting. As is Anya. As am I. Wake up, ai niron._ She hoped Clarke hadn’t learned that term of endearment yet.

 _I don’t think I can,_ Clarke whimpered. _I don’t know how._

 _Just follow me,_ Lexa reassured her. The way out was much easier than trying to get in, although a worrying amount of darkness remained that Lexa knew all belonged to Clarke herself. The repercussions Clarke would endure because of their actions did not end with the expulsion of Cage’s remaining spirit from where it had latched onto Clarke’s mind. Lexa thought they might have barely begun.

Lexa found her way back to her own body, opening her eyes and waiting for Clarke to do the same. _Come back, niron,_ she coached. It seemed to take forever, but finally, Clarke’s eyes fluttered open, revealing exhausted and devastated blue irises. Lexa watched as tears began to slowly leak out from the corners.

Skaiprisa hummed at her Rider, laying her head on Clarke’s chest and breathing warm air over her, trying to comfort the girl. Clarke didn’t make a move to embrace her dragon, merely crying silently. After a few minutes, she managed to ask, “Is Anya okay?” Her voice was choked and shaking, and Lexa ached to hear it.

“She made it through the battle safe and sound,” she was quick to reassure the teen. “She was with you, but she came to get me when you became distressed. I was downstairs dealing with Dante causing problems. Anya is watching him now for me.”

Clarke shot into a sitting position, displacing a disgruntled dragon, remembering what she’d seen while she was trapped by Cage’s remnants. “She’s in trouble!” she cried. “We have to get down there!” She struggled to get to her feet, Skaiprisa not happy about her Rider being up and about already.

“Clarke, slow down. What’s wrong?” Lexa asked.

“Dante – my vision – I was stuck in all these people – one of them was Dante,” Clarke stumbled over her explanation as she ran down the stairs, Lexa hot on her heels. “Cage was his son. Dante’s been a spy this whole time.”

Lexa cursed and ran faster.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Clarke muttered when they came upon the bodies of the two guards that had been in charge of holding Dante. Anya and Dante were nowhere to be seen. There was an entrance to one of the tunnels the Urgals and Reapers had invaded by, and Clarke sprinted into that, Lexa right next to her.

Lexa picked up the trail and they followed it until they were held up at a deep pit. The trail ended, but that wasn’t what made Clarke let out an anguished cry.

At the edge, Anya’s sword and one ripped glove lay cast aside. A small pool of blood was nearby, and Lexa knew it would be Anya’s. Clarke dropped to the ground beside the weapon and picked up the glove, gripping it tightly in her hand. “No, no, no, she can’t be gone,” Clarke murmured. Her voice had no inflection. “She can’t be.”

Lexa let the mourning Rider stay for a few minutes, before quietly approaching. “Clarke, we cannot linger,” she coaxed the other girl. “It isn’t safe. Skaiprisa will be worried.”

“I should have realized,” Clarke muttered. “How did I miss it? It was so obvious, who he was.”

“I did not make the connection either, Clarke,” Lexa reminded her. “It is not your fault. You are still a new Dragon Rider. It cannot be expected for you to know everything now. All you can do is learn.”

“What does it matter?” Clarke yelled, standing to glare furiously at Lexa. “Anya’s _dead_! I’ve committed _genocide_. Cage was right – I was the wrong choice. Even you said I had to be better than I am. Skaiprisa should have picked someone better than me. All I’m good for is death.”

Lexa flinched at the reminder of her words – poorly chosen - and gripped the girl’s shoulder, making Clarke face her. “No,” she denied fiercely. “Skaiprisa is alive because you kept her safe. I am alive because you nearly killed yourself getting us here. This entire mountain is alive – men, women, and children – because of what you did. Anya is gone because of Dante’s treachery. Not because of you.”

Clarke stared at her for a long moment, and Lexa had hope that maybe she had gotten through to the girl. That hope shattered when all Clarke did was bend over to pick up Anya’s sword and trudge back the way they had come without a word. Lexa sighed, not sure how to reach past the Rider’s guilt and desperation. It would take time – a commodity they did not have. Silently, she followed Clarke back to the Mountain, pondering what was to be done next.


	13. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the no-go update a few days ago. Some technical difficulties had me taking the chapter down, but it's back!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you mean it's been ten months since I updated? Oops. I've been so stuck on where to go with this story, and going is still slow, but I haven't given up. So if anyone's still reading this, at long last, here's another chapter.

Clarke hadn’t spoken in days. She was still weak, recovering from the large expenditure of her magic and while the wound from Cage’s sword no longer bothered her thanks to Abby’s abilities, regaining her physical health was a slow process. Her mind was another matter entirely.

Even Skaiprisa had so far been unable to reach her Rider. The dragon never left the girl’s side, reaching out multiple times a day in the hopes that Clarke would answer her. But the teenager was lost in nightmares, both awake and when sleeping. She didn’t cry, she didn’t scream, didn’t make a single sound for over a week.

Lexa spent time with Clarke as she could, but she was also needed with the Chancellor, helping Wells plan the Maunon’s next move. She would have to return to Polis soon – the Trigedakru would be needed in the near future, and they would continue refusing aid until they saw Lexa return with their own eyes.

The Elf sighed. Clarke would have to come with them. The teaching she needed could only be found in Polis. Lexa was afraid the Rider would refuse to come, but Clarke would have little choice in the matter.

 _Carrier_. Skaiprisa’s voice startled Lexa.

 _Yes, Skaiprisa, what is it?_ She answered. The dragon had not left Clarke’s side since their return from the tunnels. She had been trying to speak with her Rider constantly, but she too was having little luck.

 _I am frightened._ It was unlike the dragon to admit any kind of fear. Especially to someone that was not Clarke. _Klark has shut me out of her mind. To shield me from her anguish. I cannot feel her at all and I am unsure how to help her._

Skaiprisa did not often sound as young as she was, her intelligence and wisdom stemming from instincts honed for thousands of years in the generations before her. But now, fear colored her voice and all Lexa could think was that it sounded like a child who didn’t understand why the person they loved couldn’t just wake up.

Lexa sighed. Such thoughts wouldn’t help anyone. Clarke was not dead. Irrevocably changed, yes, but not gone. And Lexa was grateful for that. _I will be there when I can. I must finish my discussion with the Chancellor._

_Thank you, Carrier._

“Lexa?” Wells asked.

The Elf shook herself out of her thoughts. “I apologize. Skaiprisa was speaking with me,” she explained shortly.

A look of understanding passed over Wells’ face. “How is Clarke?” he inquired.

“That is what Skaiprisa wished to discuss with me. We are trying to plan the future, Wells. You and I both know that without a Dragon Rider, our war against Thelonius will be over before it begins. I must take Clarke to Polis, both to aid in her recovery and further training, and also to bring the Trigedakru back into this alliance,” she said firmly. “Until then, Mount Weather is no longer safe. You must have the Maunon retreat to the south until my people arrive. Luna’s people have another hidden stronghold by the great Lake.”

Wells nodded apprehensively. “Yes, yes,” he mused. “I know of the second Grounder haven. My only concern is that my people will be too scared to move so far with no guarantee of safety.”

“They have seen with their own eyes now what Thelonius is capable of and how vulnerable they are here. Even with the threat of Cage dealt with, I do not think you will find it difficult to convince them to leave.”

“You’re right,” Wells decided. “I will begin preparations for our departure and yours. Return Clarke to us whole again, Carrier.”

Lexa nodded her head respectfully. “I will try, Chancellor.”

* * *

Skaiprisa greeted her with relief when Lexa reached the top of the stairs. _I have tried everything I can to break through Klark’s shield,_ she explained, agitated. _She was never good about blocking me, but now, no matter what I do, I cannot reach her._

 _I do not believe Clarke can communicate mentally right now, Prisa,_ Lexa tried to sooth the fretful dragon. _She is in no state to do so effectively, at the very least. Be patient, young one. She will return to you with time._ The Elf accepted a tray of food from the girl that had followed her up to the high reaches of the mountain. The child bowed and quickly scampered away after a look of awe directed at the dragon. _When was the last time she ate?_

_When you were here with her, yesterday._

Lexa cursed silently, looking over at Clarke’s curled up figure underneath a blanket on her pallet. She wasn’t moving, but Lexa knew that sleep eluded her. _Did you take her flying last night?_

_Yes, it seemed to help briefly. Klark slept for an hour, but woke screaming. That is when she shut me out completely. Before, she spoke to me through our connection a few times every day, but nothing since last night. Not even a feeling._

Lexa nodded. “ _Klark, yu laik kwelen_ ,” she murmured softly, going to sit next to the stricken Rider. “You must eat.” Clarke didn’t move – gave no indication that she had even heard Lexa. She stared at the wall, a blank expression on her face. “Clarke, as you grow weaker, so does Skaiprisa. Is that what you want?” Lexa said more harshly. “You _must_ eat.” She held out a small piece of bread, trying to coax the girl.

Clarke’s eyes dropped in shame and she slowly reached out for the food. Lexa had to cajole her into each bite, but Clarke ate – until Lexa tried to give her a piece of meat. As soon as the smell hit her nose, Clarke gagged. She jerked off of her pallet and practically dove for the bucket meant to act as her latrine, throwing up every bit of food Lexa had managed to get into her.

Lexa rushed to her side, holding Clarke up when it looked like she might collapse with the strength of her heaves. “Shh, it is alright. You are safe,” Lexa whispered to her. She half-carried Clarke back to her bed, helping her lean against the wall. Lexa grabbed a mug of water sitting on the tray, and held it to Clarke’s lips. “Drink,” she urged. The Rider obeyed, grabbing the cup and gulping down the liquid.

Lexa took the opportunity to throw the rest of the meat on the tray to Skaiprisa, who ate it with relish. By the time she was done with that, Clarke had also finished drinking. She sat against the wall, shaking. The shivers didn’t stop even when Lexa covered her with a blanket. Clarke didn’t cry – Lexa thought it would be better if she did. Then at least she would know that Clarke had come to accept what had happened and was actually grieving, rather than just shutting down.

Lexa made a note to keep meat away from Clarke for the time being. She’d probably had a flashback to the battle. The stench of burned flesh had stayed in her nose for days after Lexa’s first battle. She picked up some potato this time, offering it to Clarke. The girl looked at it warily, but accepted, chewing it slowly. Bit by bit, Lexa got Clarke to eat most of what was left on the tray.

“I must leave for Polis soon,” Lexa informed Clarke when the girl was done eating. “I know I asked you to come with me before the battle, but now I’m afraid you will have little choice. If the Maunon are to survive, they need my people’s help. And my people will not agree unless they see that I am alive. A messenger will not be enough to convince them. And you and Skaiprisa need teaching only I and my people can give. I wish I could give you more time, Clarke.”

Clarke looked over at her and nodded, indicating that she would make the journey willingly. She couldn’t stay here, where all the people of the Maunon she killed for stared at her with awe, gratitude, and not a little fear. Where every step she took was a reminder of the best friend she’d lost. She had to get out of there.

“I need you to say it out loud, Clarke,” Lexa coaxed gently. “Will you come to Polis with me?”

It took a long time for the Rider to say anything. She fiddled with her fingers, looked from Skaiprisa to Lexa and back again. “Yes,” she finally croaked, voice harsh from disuse.

“Good,” Lexa breathed. “I will begin preparations then. We leave in two days. The Maunon are retreating to the South, where an ally has made a safe haven, so we will not have to worry about leaving them unprotected.”

Clarke seemed to relax slightly at the lifting of that burden. She nodded gratefully, running a hand up and down Skaiprisa’s leg as if looking for reassurance. The dragon bent her head close to her Rider’s, blowing warm breath and ruffling Clarke’s hair. A miniscule smile was Clarke’s response.

Lexa took a deep breath, trying to guard herself when this young Rider tore through two hundred year old walls like they were cloth. As a child, Lexa had been raised to always consider with her head – never her heart. Such long lived creatures could afford nothing less, when every decision could have an impact for hundreds if not thousands of years. But this girl, not knowing any different, had invaded Lexa’s life in a way she hadn’t thought possible.

And now she was damaged – not beyond repair but more than Clarke believed could be fixed – and Lexa couldn’t allow Clarke the time she needed to heal. Clarke and Skaiprisa were too necessary in the upcoming war, and they couldn’t afford to be out of commission for long. Clarke, especially, needed training. But for the next few days and weeks it would take to travel to Polis –

“Rest, Clarke. Sleep,” Lexa commanded softly, prodding the blonde to lie back down on her pallet. Skaiprisa settled as well, curling around both women. “You are safe. Don’t fear the nightmares. I will be here to protect you.” After a hesitation, the elf leaned down to press a gentle kiss to the crown of Clarke’s head.

Refusing to break eye contact until her lids shut of their own accord, Clarke slowly drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Danl watched the other boys playing enviously, savagely wishing he could take part – show them up. But Father insisted that he was too weak, too sick. He needed to save his strength for more important things. Things like his studies.

His studies were where he’d learned of the power he could hold. Father surely hadn’t meant for him to find it, but now he could use it to show those brats that they truly were beneath him. All he had to do was get one on his own…

He’d done it. Emerson was such a sheep – a follower. The slightest hint that someone else knew better, and Emerson would change course instantly to suit their will. Danl reveled in this newfound authority. Emerson would be just the first to witness his rise.

The boy – younger than Danl by a year – never stood a chance. He led Emerson far outside of town with the promise of a fun adventure and treasure at the end – far enough that no adults would ever hear his screams. Danl took Emerson to the circle he had made, which merely wanted for the blood of an innocent to be complete. He took the knife he’d stolen from Father, and clumsily slashed at the boy’s throat. It took three tries – made difficult by Emerson finally screaming and trying to run away – but Danl watched in fascination as Emerson’s life’s blood ran in rivers to fill the circle.

Danl hadn’t known there was so much blood in a little boy’s body.

After the last of it drained away, the spirits came. The spirits that would give him power. They shrieked and screamed and raced around Danl, and he grew uncertain. One flew at him – collided. Then, another. And another. They filled him and erased who Danl had been. The boy was no more.

Only Cage remained – a cage for the malevolence he’d summoned.

None could stand in the new Shade’s way. The town Danl grew up in ceased to exist that day. The only one spared the man Cage vaguely remembered as Danl’s Father. The man who’d raised the boy he used to be.

Dante lived. But the roads ran red with blood that afternoon the same as the circle had filled with Emerson’s.

* * *

Clarke woke up screaming.

 _Klark!_ Skaiprisa cried, trying to get into Clarke’s mind to soothe her and failing.

Lexa rushed to Clarke’s side. She had been just about to leave to arrange what would be needed for their journey to Polis when the Rider began screaming in her sleep. “Clarke! Wake up. _Yu laik klir, Klark._ I am here. You are safe.”

The blonde struggled against Lexa, shouting nonsense. “Get him out, get him out!” she yelled, clutching her head.

“Who, Clarke?” Lexa grabbed Clarke’s hands, preventing her from hurting herself as she tried to get whoever was tormenting her out of her head. Clarke continued to try to scratch her torturer out, forcing Lexa to pin her down and sink into her mind. The whirlwind of darkness Clarke’s mind had been before was gone, now focused on the atrocities of a single creature. Lexa watched Cage’s life play out as Clarke was forced to witness it over and over again.

If this was what Clarke saw every time she went to sleep, Lexa wasn’t surprised that the teenager was frightened of closing her eyes. But she’d been unable to break out of the dream’s hold on her this time, meaning the connection was getting stronger. Lexa went deeper, searching for the perpetrator.

She found the foreign presence in the depths of Clarke’s mind, deeper than she’d gone looking the last time. Cage’s mind had latched on to Clarke’s at the moment of his death, sinking black hooks in and making himself at home.

“ _Wuskripa,_ ” Lexa snarled. She should have seen this when she banished Cage from Clarke’s mind the first time. But she’d missed it. “ _Gyon au! Yu nou ge teik in hir.”_ She began to cut through the ties connecting Clarke to this half-thing leftover from the Shade’s death. Sensing the threat, the invader tried to worm its way further into Clarke’s mind, but Lexa acted quickly, severing the last of the connections holding Clarke prisoner. “Begone, Shade.”

The last of the darkness banished, Lexa pulled herself out of Clarke’s mind with care, trying to avoid any further damage. “ _Stomba raun, Rider (Awake, Rider)_ ,” she commanded.

Clarke’s eyes fluttered, taking a minute to open fully. “L-Lexa?” she mumbled.

 _“Monin hou (Welcome back)_ ,” Lexa replied. “Forgive me for not seeing what Cage had done as he perished, Clarke. I should have been more aware of his ploy, and you suffered for my mistake.”

“He –” Clarke swallowed. “He’s gone? The nightmares will stop?”

Lexa frowned. “I cannot promise the nightmares will end, but they will be your own and no one else’s.”

Clarke nodded. “Prisa?”

 _Here, Klark,_ Prisa said warmly, laying her head gently on Clarke’s stomach for her Rider to pet.

“I didn’t mean to,” Clarke whispered. “I couldn’t get away.”

_There is nothing to forgive, little one._

“All those people…”

“Were dead the moment Cage turned them into Reapers, Clarke,” Lexa interrupted. “You gave them peace. Not death.”

Clarke shook her head. “It’s too much power for any one person to have. What if I use it wrongly, someday, with no one to stop me? I can’t – I won’t risk it.”

“And when Thelonius rides his dragon onto the battlefield to decimate the rebellion?” Lexa asked.

“Please. Please, I can’t,” Clarke begged, pressing her hands to the sides of her head. She hunkered down, making herself smaller as if trying to avoid an attack.

Lexa relented. “Alright. Try to rest. I’ll be back when arrangements have been completed for our travels.” _Prisa?_

_Yes, Carrier._

_Has she opened herself back up to you?_

The dragon sighed, settling as close to her Rider as she could get without crushing her. Clarke was curled into a ball, almost hidden under the shoulder of Skaiprisa’s foreleg. _Enough to allow her to hear my words, but I still cannot feel her. If Klark continues to close herself off, what will happen?_

Lexa hesitated a moment before shaking it off. She was Heda, destined to lead her people from birth. She could be pragmatic about one teenager without letting emotions get in the way. _A Rider who refuses to connect with their dragon will eventually die from the mental suppression,_ she confessed. _Depending on the previous strength of the connection, the process of withering will slow or speed up. Your close bond will help, Skaiprisa, but only for a few months. You_ must _get her to accept what she has done and thus, her role in your life again. Or Klark will be dead before this war truly begins, and civilization as we know it will fall._


	14. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa and Skaiprisa try to help Clarke as they travel to Polis.

Lexa watched Clarke from across the fire that marked the center of their camp. Monty, who had been sent by collaborative agreement between his adoptive mother, Luna, and Wells, was comfortably asleep a few feet away. He would observe Clarke’s training as an impartial party and act as a liaison on behalf of the Maunon. Clarke seemed to like Monty’s cheerful and calming presence, so the Elf hadn’t protested him accompanying them.

The Rider she was so keenly watching over was currently also lost in sleep, but a much less restful one than Monty’s. Clarke tossed and turned in the shadow of Skaiprisa’s stomach, nightmares still a constant issue in the wake of the battle and Cage’s subsequent invasion of her mind. Lexa resisted the urge to sink into Clarke’s mind to make sure the last vestiges of Cage’s influence were truly erased and soothe Clarke’s suffering. The Rider had had enough people playing around in her brain in the last few weeks.

So Lexa crept over to Clarke’s side and rested a hand on the restless girl’s shoulder. “Clarke,” she murmured, mindful of the sleeping Monty. “Awake, Clarke. _Yu ste klir, Klark._ ”

Clarke’s eyes blinked open, latching immediately onto Lexa’s. She nodded, taking deep breaths to steady herself. “ _Mochof, Leksa_ ,” she whispered so lowly Lexa had to strain to hear her.

“ _Pro._ Would it help your mind to relax if Prisa took you flying?”

The Rider nodded hesitantly, and Skaiprisa immediately lowered her shoulder for Clarke to more easily clamber up. The blonde settled herself in the depression where her saddle usually went, gripping onto one of Skaiprisa’s spines for stability. The dragon took off leisurely so as not to dislodge her Rider and disappeared into the night, her deep blue scales matching the midnight blue sky perfectly.

Lexa made herself comfortable by the fire and settled herself in to watch over Monty and wait for Clarke and her dragon to return, hoping the younger girl would be in a better state of mind when they did.

* * *

Clarke lay her head along Skaiprisa’s neck trying to dispel the nightmare from her head. For the week since they’d left Mount Weather, she’d spent each night watching Anya be dragged away from her as she was helpless to do anything but watch. Every night she let her best friend die. Or her aunt. Or Jake. All the people she should have been able to save. Lexa sometimes made an appearance, and Clarke’s initial relief at her presence always turned to shame as the commanding Elf blamed her for losing a war she hadn’t known she was a part of.

Sometimes, Clarke wished she could take it all back – finding the dragon egg, raising Skaiprisa, running away with Jake. If she’d just left it in the woods, then everything would have been fine. She’d still be at home with her aunt and Octavia, Jake would still be telling stories in the village square, Anya would traveling the wilds, and Lexa –

Lexa would probably be dead.

Clarke hated herself for knowing that she wouldn’t change the past to keep Lexa alive. It was one life – one person who she barely knew. She couldn’t be worth all those others combined. An endless war inside her head going ‘round and ‘round on things she couldn’t change – Clarke felt like she was going mad.

 _Klark?_ Skaiprisa said gently.

Clarke slowly released the grip on her head she didn’t realize she’d had. _What?_ She asked dully.

 _Please let me in. We are meant to be partners. Let me help,_ the dragon begged.

 _There’s nothing you can do. There’s nothing_ anyone _can do, so just leave me alone._ Clarke shut down the barriers in her mind, not even allowing words to come through their bond.

Skaiprisa let out a mournful roar at being shut out, causing Clarke to flinch. _It’s for the best_ , she thought to herself as Skaiprisa began her descent to the ground. She didn’t want her dragon to know that sometimes she wished they’d never met. Clarke couldn’t hurt her like that – better this smaller pain.

* * *

Lexa watched Skaiprisa land, any hopes of the flight having done Clarke some good vanishing when the teen merely slid off the dragon’s back to curl up on her bedroll. _Skaiprisa?_ She asked.

Skaiprisa hummed sadly, gazing longingly at her Rider. _I believe I only made matters worse, Carrier. Klark is hiding something. Something she is doing everything she can to prevent me from knowing. She shut me out completely – I cannot even speak to her._

 _You will try again tomorrow,_ Lexa said firmly. _As will I. Any small reconnection you can make will strengthen your bond and slow the descent. All progress is vital in keeping both of you alive._

Lexa settled down to rest. None of the commotion had caused Monty to even stir, and Lexa wryly thought that the boy would never be a soldier. Skaiprisa curled as close to her Rider as possible, concealing her with her tail and wing and tucking her head under to breathe in Clarke’s scent. _Carrier?_

_Yes, Prisa._

_Jeik was her Sire, was he not? And Abbi is her Mother? The way you spoke to Abbi after the battle -_

Lexa sighed. _Klark can never know that. Not until she’s ready. With how fragile she is, that knowledge would destroy her._

_Yes, Carrier._

* * *

Clarke watched the sunlight disappear above the foliage of the forest Lexa was leading them into with not a little bit of trepidation. _I don’t know if I can do this,_ she whispered over the connection she’d refused to use for the last five days.

 _…Klark,_ Skaiprisa breathed reverently, relieved at her Rider re-entering her mind, even a little bit.

 _They’ll expect me to know things, and be ready for this war, and want to fight Jaha,_ Clarke said, panic making her speak faster and faster. _I don’t know anything Skaiprisa. I can’t – I’m going to be a disappointment and I’m going to shame Lexa. I can’t even_ look _at my sword or use Trigedasleng. I’m not ready to be some kind of hero for people, Prisa._ She abruptly stopped walking, her breath coming too quickly.

“Clarke?” Monty asked, confused.

His words made Lexa turn around. “Clarke,” she murmured sadly as she watched the Rider approach emotional breakdown yet again.

“I can’t, Lexa,” the teen gasped. “Please. Don’t make me.” She tried to take a running step backwards but Skaiprisa snatched her up by the back of her collar and carefully lifted her up in the air. “Prisa!” she yelled. “Put me down you great big lizard!”

Skaiprisa snorted smoke in laughter, making Clarke cough. The dragon held her up high for a few more moments before gently setting her down in front of Lexa. “Monty, could you give us a minute?” Lexa requested.

“Um – sure, I’ll just be – over here,” Monty stuttered, going to stand at the base of a nearby tree.

Clarke had sobered, and was staring at Lexa solemnly when she looked back. “Clarke,” Lexa began, “you cannot run. I know you are haunted by what you have seen – what you were forced to do. I hope I can give you the time to come to terms with it here, in my forest. That you will find some kind of peace while you stay here. But your training must also begin again.”

“Wait,” Clarke interrupted. “My _training_?”

Lexa sighed. “Yes, Clarke. You still require instruction if you –”

“No. Absolutely not. What, you think that after everything I would just want to keep learning how to kill people in better ways? I can’t even look at an eating knife, Lexa, let alone my sword. And you can forget about Trigedasleng. I don’t want anything to do with it!” Clarke yelled.

“You don’t have a choice, Clarke. Even if you never go onto another battlefield, even if you never speak another word of Trigedasleng, Jaha will still come after you. You are the last, free _Dragokru_ , Clarke. He will _never_ leave you be,” Lexa warned.

“You can’t force me.” It was a childish response, Clarke knew, but it was all she had. The idea of having to learn how to kill people more efficiently filled her with nausea.

Lexa sighed. “I could make you participate, but I will not. However, you will attend training nonetheless, even if you insist on being obstinate. I can only give you so much time, Clarke.”

“Whatever. Come on, Prisa, let’s go.” Clarke climbed into her saddle, growling in frustration when Skaiprisa looked to Lexa first.

 _It is alright, Skaiprisa,_ Lexa said silently. _Let her work out her anger. It is better than being numb. Just bring her back safely; I will call when I need you to return._

 _Yes, Carrier._ Skaiprisa took off into the air with her Rider, quickly disappearing from sight.

“Uh, can I come back now?” Monty asked from over by his tree.

* * *

_Prisa, you need to land,_ Lexa called to the dragon still in the sky. She and Clarke had been flying for the several hours since the group had entered the Elves’ forest. _We will reach Polis soon and you both need to be with me when we cross the Barrier. There is an open area nearby where you can touch down._

 _We see it._ Skaiprisa circled the designated landing area. _Klark, it’s time._

Clarke grimaced. Her desire to see where Lexa came from had dwindled since her first invitation. She didn’t want more people staring and talking about her behind her back. _Don’t you wish we could disappear sometimes and never come back?_ she asked desperately.

 _If it would keep you safe, I would kidnap you and take you far away,_ Skaiprisa admitted. _But it cannot, and we both know that you could not abandon the people who rely on you. Besides, are you not still curious to see the place Lexa comes from?_

 _I am, a bit,_ Clarke acknowledged. _Everyone thought the Elves left Alagaesia the way they’d arrived. But I’m just a girl from a farm who found a dragon egg and can’t even bear the sight of my sword anymore, Prisa. What could I possibly have to offer them?_

The dragon took a long time to respond, thinking over her answer. _I believe … perhaps hope is the most important thing we could give. Even if we were at full strength, we could not defeat the Tyrant and his armies on our own. Others will need to believe in us and fight with us. I think you will inspire people with more than just your prowess in war, Klark._

Clarke smiled for the first time in weeks. It was tiny, but it was there. _When did you get so wise?_ She asked.

Skaiprisa snorted as she landed in the forest clearing. _I have always been wise – it is a gift of my heritage. You merely do not listen to my wisdom._

“Says the dragon who didn’t know what kissing was,” Clarke found it in herself to keep teasing her dragon, having some fun for the first time since the battle.

Skaiprisa huffed smoke indignantly. _That has no bearing on the matter._

“Clarke,” Lexa interrupted the brief moment of levity. “We are here.”

“We’re not _that_ far into the forest,” Monty pointed out, confused.

Clarke nodded. “How did Jaha never find Polis? I expected it to be a few more days' travel deep into the trees at least. I don’t even see anything here.”

Lexa smiled. “And that is how Polis has remained safe from outsiders for millennia. Come now.”

The two humans and dragon watched in awe as Lexa walked forward three steps, only to disappear right in front of them. “No way,” Monty breathed.

_Klark?_

Skaiprisa sounded nervous, so Clarke gulped down her own apprehension and forged ahead blindly, hoping the Elves’ magic knew she was coming. It felt like she passed through a cool waterfall, but she didn’t get wet, and then she was on the other side safe and sound. A great - solid - wall stood in front of her, lined with Elvish guards who were sounding an alert with horns.

Lexa smiled proudly. “ _Os hana (Well done), Klark_ ,” she murmured and spread her arms. “Welcome to Polis.”


	15. Chapter 14

Clarke looked about Polis in awe, distracted from her hurts by the city’s splendor. Nearly all of the city’s buildings were built up into the trees, though Clarke couldn’t tell where tree ended and structure began. Of the buildings on the ground, one appeared to be a blacksmith and the other some type of hall. Perhaps a meeting area or someplace the population could congregate on special occasions. “How did they do all this?”

She breathed the words to herself, but Lexa, with her Elven ears, picked up on it. “The trees were encouraged as saplings by my ancestors to grow into the structures you see. It took hundreds of years, but the results will never fade. Each family keeps up the maintenance of the growth in their own home.”

“Luna would love this,” Monty said appreciatively.

“You may write her about it,” Lexa permitted, “although I will ask you to show discretion in how much of our home you describe to her. Both of you are very lucky – few outsiders have ever been allowed within our borders. Jake and Abby are the only two to have been welcomed in my lifetime, and even they have not visited in over half a century.”

Surprise rushed through Clarke. “Jake was here?” she asked, voice wobbling the tiniest amount. The ache of her mentor’s absence was still a raw thing inside her chest, along with the blame she’d never let go for not being able to save him.

“Many times,” Lexa confirmed. “He was trained in Polis, as a young Rider, and continued to spend time here between his duties before the Fall of the Twelve. I was young when Thelonious betrayed the Riders – not yet thirty summers – but I remember when Nia slew Jake’s dragon. The devastation almost tore him apart. It was ten years before he was seen again within our borders.”

“What was she like, Jake’s dragon?” Clarke asked curiously. “All I know is that she was named Skaiprisa.”

Lexa smiled in remembrance. “She was the brightest blue. I remember watching her fly – she wasn’t the biggest, but she was one of the fastest. Her name _was_ Skaiprisa, but Jake liked to call her after her color. _Saphira_. It’s _Trigedasleng_ for blue.” Lexa gave a huff of laughter, sounding almost fond. “Jake was never the best at naming things. He called the first blade he received at nine summers _Swison_ – our word for sword.” Clarke cracked a grin at the thought of a young Jake. In her preoccupation, she didn’t notice the crowd growing around them at first.

“Heda Alexandria!” a man called, startling Clarke out of her thoughts and approaching them at a speed that would be considered a jog in a less haughty person. “You have returned!”

Authority washed over Lexa’s face. Her shoulders straightened, hands went behind her back, and her chin tilted up, giving the impression that she was looking down her nose at the world. “ _Sha, Fleimkepa._ And I have brought a _Dragokru_ home to Polis to complete her training. My duty has been fulfilled.”

“That is something I believe best discussed inside, Heda,” the _Fleimkepa_ – whatever that was – insisted.

Lexa sighed. “Very well, Titus. Clarke and Prisa will accompany us.” She scanned the crowd, looking for something. “Ah, Aluris. Could you escort Monty of the Grounders to one of our guest houses and settle him in? He will be overseeing the Dragon Rider’s training.”

A young-ish looking girl stepped away from the rest of her people. “ _Sha,_ Heda,” she murmured quietly. She gestured for Monty to follow her, disappearing into the trees with him while Clarke followed behind Lexa and a man she already didn’t like to the meeting hall structure.

“Heda, I do not believe that this – girl – being here is appropriate,” Titus was saying when Clarke and Skaiprisa entered the hall through the huge wooden doors obviously made to accommodate dragons. “She is a stranger, one of the _humans_. The egg was not meant to hatch for her!”

Lexa shook her head. “You have always been close minded and too comfortable in the old ways, _Fleimkepa_ ,” she reprimanded. “Perhaps if we had abandoned them, allowed other races like the dwarves to test themselves against the eggs we would not be fighting the war we are now. And now you wish to exclude humans as well? Elves are not the only species in this world anymore, Titus. You would do well to remember that,” she warned.

Titus changed to a different tactic. “ _That_ is no _Dragokru_ , Heda, nor a _gona._ That is a _strikon,_ and you expect her to defeat the King? She wouldn’t last a candlemark against him.”

Clarke was torn between agreeing with his words and wanting to defend herself, but Lexa made the choice for her. “Clarke Griffin is a Dragon Rider, whether you choose to see that or not, Titus,” she said firmly. “Skaiprisa hatched for her when I had to send the egg away, Clarke raised her alone, she rescued me from Cage’s clutches, and successfully defended the Maunon at Mount Weather, killing Cage while doing so. She has done more than we ever asked of any student, and Clarke has excelled. Are you questioning a dragon’s choice, Titus?”

“No, Heda,” Titus muttered, glaring at Clarke. She really didn’t understand what his problem was.

 _‘Griffin’, Clarke?_ Skaiprisa asked. _You have another name?_

 _No, Prisa,_ Clarke replied mentally, confused herself. Her aunt had never mentioned a last name, so Clarke had always assumed she didn’t have one. Using hers and Octavia’s always felt wrong – Clarke didn’t feel like a Blake. If she did have a name of her own, that begged the question of why Lexa knew it and not Clarke. _I’ll ask Lexa later._ It was a relief to have her mind open to Prisa again, even to a smaller degree. It soothed an ache in her to be able to feel her dragon in the background, though she still hid part of herself away – too raw and aching still from the battle at Mount Weather.

Lexa nodded at Titus’ acquiescence, the matter settled for the moment. “Then we have much to discuss about what has occurred in Polis in my absence. How fares _Naunon (the Wise One)_?”

Titus frowned. “As difficult as ever, Heda.”

Clarke would swear that Lexa cracked a smile at that. “I will take Clarke and Skaiprisa to meet them after they have rested. Inform the rest of our _kru_ that Heda has returned _beja_ , Titus.”

“ _Sha,_ Heda.”

“Clarke, Prisa, if you would follow me.” Lexa beckoned. “Titus, we will speak more in the morning.”

* * *

Clarke tailed after Lexa as she led them deeper into the forest city, with Prisa padding along lightly behind. “Lexa, why did you call me Clarke Griffin, before?” she asked. “That’s not my name. I don’t even have a last name – unless you count my aunt’s married name, which was Blake.”

Lexa hesitated so briefly, Clarke almost missed it. “I apologize, Clarke. It was a mistake.”

“How could you know my name?” Clarke pressed. “I never knew my parents.”

“It was Jake’s family name,” Lexa sighed. “You remind me of him so much, at times, it slipped out. I apologize if it pained you to hear.”

Clarke blinked. “I, I didn’t know that was Jake’s name.” It hurt terribly, learning more about the man she’d come to love like a father after his death, but she’d take any chance to hear more from someone who knew him. “I’m honored that you think I’m like him, Lexa – that’s all I could aspire to be. If you ever were willing to talk about him, I think I’d like to know more about Jake.”

“I will keep that in mind, Clarke,” Lexa promised. She stopped in front of a cluster of five enormous trees that joined together over fifty feet in the air to form a large open air living space. “This is where you two will be staying. The trees were encouraged together to make a home where dragons and their Riders would not have to live in separation. Consider this your home whenever you find yourselves in Polis from now on.”

Clarke glanced at Skaiprisa, stunned. Lexa was just giving them a house? In the most mysterious city of Alagaesia? “Thank you, Lexa. We appreciated the generosity.”

 _Thank you, Carrier_ , Prisa added.

“Then I will leave you two alone for the evening. Clarke – sleep well and have Prisa send for me if you need me.” Lexa looked unsure of whether she should have offered, but nodded resolutely, stepping back to give the dragon room to spread her wings.

Clarke clambered onto Prisa’s back and they rose vertically, Skaiprisa hovering in place for a moment until she found an ideal landing spot on the balcony. Clarke slid off of the dragon to walk around their new home, while Skaiprisa focused her attention on the Elf they just left. _You lied to her about Jake_. It was not an accusation, but the dragon needed to understand why.

 _My reasons for keeping Clarke’s parentage from her for the time being remain the same,_ Lexa stated. _It would be more detrimental to her mental wellbeing at this time to know that her father is dead and her mother left her behind. Clarke must heal, but in time, she will be better equipped to handle this knowledge. She will be angry – perhaps even hate me – for keeping this from her, but it is better this way. Trust me on this, Skaiprisa._

 _I will, Carrier,_ the dragon relented. _But I do not like lying to her._

 _Neither do I, Prisa._ Skaiprisa could hear a mental sigh. _Rest well._ The Commander closed the mental link and left the pair in peace. She had someone to see.

“Prisa? What are you doing still out there?” Clarke called from the lone portion of the dwelling that had a roof. Skaiprisa padded over, careful to keep her claws from scratching the living wood. An entire half of the floor was covered in sturdy looking cushions, the size obviously designated to be a dragon’s sleeping area. A good-sized bed was directly beside it, but Clarke was sitting in the middle of the cushioned floor. “Well. We made it to Polis. Where Jake wanted to bring us eventually.” Clarke shrugged helplessly. “I thought he’d be here with us.”

The dragon sighed, walking over the girl to get between her and the wall. _I did as well, little one._

The teen sniffed, laying down as Prisa curled around her, sheltering Clarke from the outside world. _We were supposed to start this whole journey alone, but now we truly are on our own. I don’t know what to do anymore, Prisa._

A blue wing spread over her as Skaiprisa’s tail wrapped around her body to hold her snug. Her dragon breathed warm air over her, comforting Clarke as much as she could. _You will never be alone, little one,_ Skaiprisa promised. _You will always have me._

Clarke heaved a sigh. _Yes. We just don’t know how long that will be._

_Nobody knows, Klark. Not even dragons. The only thing we can do is train as Lexa wishes us so that we may survive as long as possible._

“Maybe someday I’ll be able to pick up a sword again,” Clarke allowed, switching back to verbal speech, “but Trigedasleng is different. The amount of devastation I can cause with just a sentence – it’s wrong.”

 _We will face that problem when it is required of us, Klark. Not before,_ Skaiprisa decided. _For now, please, just don’t hide yourself from me. I can help you bear this burden, but only if you let me._

“I’m trying, Prisa. It’s just so hard. Everything inside me is saying just curl into a ball and shut the whole world out, and it’s so hard to push past that,” Clarke whispered.

Skaiprisa curled even tighter around her young Rider, if that was possible. _We will take small steps with that as well then, little one. Swear that you won’t shut me out completely anymore, though,_ she insisted.

Clarke lifted a hand and brushed it against the leathery wing above her head. “I promise, Prisa.”

* * *

Clarke went looking for Lexa the next morning after eating a breakfast of food left by the doorway for her. Skaiprisa told her an Elf boy dropped it off sometime right after dawn. She sounded proud when she told Clarke how the boy was clearly nervous around her. Clarke noticed the food was obviously lacking in meat, and wondered if that was Lexa’s doing or if Elves were simply vegetarian for the most part.

She left Skaiprisa to a midmorning nap in the sun and made her way back to the meeting hall where Lexa would hopefully be waiting for her. A raised voice emanating from inside caught her attention, and she crept closer to the closed doors, not wanting to be caught.

“It was a mistake, _Heda_ , involving our _kru_ in this war.” Clarke recognized Titus’ yelling. Apparently, that was all he ever did. “We are safe behind these walls, and here you should have remained!”

“Whether you like it or not, _Fleimkepa_ ,” Lexa hissed back, “there is a war being waged. If the humans and dwarves are defeated, are you really so foolish as to think that Thelonious will be satisfied? He will turn his sights on our home, and Polis will fall. We cannot hide forever, and I will not order my people to fight and die for me in a war that I refuse to do my own part in.”

Clarke felt maybe this concerned her. She put her hand on the door.

 _Do not come in yet, Klark,_ Lexa’s commanding voice sounded in Clarke’s head.

Oh. Okay. Clarke could wait. She didn’t _really_ want to get involved in the argument anyways. She had enough problems.

“You are bringing this war right to our doorstep, bringing the human child here!” Titus continued his rant. “You have a duty to your people, and yet you allow your – concern – for that girl to cause you to abandon them!”

Lexa erupted. “Do not speak to me of my duty! I have led our people since before the fall of the Riders. I kept them _safe_. I am more than _capable_ of separating feelings from duty! You will know your place, Titus, or I shall find a new _Fleimkepa_. _Yu nami?!_ ”

“I understand, _Heda_.” It sounded like Titus said it through gritted teeth, which he probably did. He stormed out of the doors Clarke had been waiting behind, sparing a glare for her before marching on his way.

“ _Yu nau teik min op in, Klark (You can come in now),_ ” Lexa called.

Clarke uneasily walked in. “If me being here is causing this much disruption, Prisa and I can go,” she offered. “I don’t want to be any trouble.”

Lexa’s eyes softened, and she shook her head. “Do not worry about Titus, Clarke. He is opposed to any change, and has been waiting to berate me like that for twenty years. Now come. There is someone I would like you to meet. She has been expecting you.”

“Who?”

“You shall see,” Lexa said mysteriously. “Call Skaiprisa, and we will go see her.”

Shrugging, Clarke did as she was told. _Prisa?_

 _I heard,_ the dragon answered. _I am above you._

Skaiprisa landed and walked next to them through the city. Elves they passed along the way all bowed, murmuring ‘ _Heda_ ’ respectfully to their returned leader. “So that’s what Jake meant by Commander?” Clarke asked. “You’re _Heda_ of all of Polis.”

“I am,” Lexa acknowledged. “I took up leadership shortly before Thelonious’ betrayal a century ago, when I was twenty-eight, barely out of childhood. I was the youngest Commander in history, but the past _Heda_ perished unexpectedly, and it was already known that I would become the next.”

“You’re over a hundred years old,” Clarke realized. “ _Jok_ , you must think I’m an infant compared to you.” Gods, she was stupid for thinking that kiss might have meant something.

“You _are_ young, Clarke,” Lexa allowed. “However, you have wisdom beyond your years, and you are more than worthy to be Skaiprisa’s Rider. And –” she hesitated, “I do not consider our moment before the battle to have been a mistake. But you are here to heal and to learn, and what transpired at the Mountain can wait for a better time.”

Clarke nodded, feeling slightly relieved at both the acknowledgement and postponement of _that_ discussion. She didn’t want it forgotten, but everything was moving too quickly, and the pain of the battle still too fresh that the thought of adding her feelings for the Commander on top of it all was entirely overwhelming. “It can.”

They walked in silence for a few more minutes until the reached the very outskirts of Polis and Lexa stopped abruptly. “We are here.”

Clarke looked around, but there was no one to be seen. “Where’s here? I thought we were meeting –”

“It’s about time you two showed up,” a female’s voice interrupted. “We were getting impatient. I was ready to fly down to Mount Weather with Dax here to fetch you myself.”

Clarke looked up, her mouth dropping open in shock. Prisa, too, made a strange noise, both confused and joyful.

There, in front of them, was another dragon and its Rider.


	16. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke reaches a breaking point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray for only having two stories to work on at the moment, which should hopefully mean quicker updates for both of them! I AM currently looking for a new job, having moved back across the country to be closer to my parents, so that might take some time away from writing because once I find one I'll have to move AGAIN, but hopefully I'll be settled into a new place with a good job within a few months. Sorry for the long note, enjoy!

“How – Where – What –?” Clarke stuttered, not sure which question to ask first as the dragon – Dax – landed with a slight awkwardness and the Rider dismounted. She and Skaiprisa weren’t the only ones. They weren’t alone. “How did you –?”

 _Klark, breathe_ , Skaiprisa said calmly, an undercurrent of excitement running through her mental voice.

“Raven and Dax survived the slaughter of the Riders a hundred years ago,” Lexa explained.

“Not uninjured, mind you,” Raven added, patting her left leg. Clarke looked down to see some kind of metal brace wrapped around the entirety of the limb. “Being a Rider wasn’t my only talent. I was a pretty good smith back in the day. Still am,” she said, sounding smug. “The leg’s useless these days, but I can still get around alright with this clunker I built. Dax is almost matching.” She jabbed a thumb at her dragon’s left hind leg, which was missing from the joint down. Clarke winced at how much pain that must have caused both the dragon and Rider. “Almost bit the dust in the final battle, and the Trikru smuggled us back here to Polis to heal and wait. We’re not much for soldiering around anymore, but after Jake and Marcus stole Skaiprisa’s egg twenty years ago, we knew there’d be a new Rider someday that needed teaching. So we’ve waited ever since.”

“I – don’t know what to say,” Clarke breathed. It felt like a weight had lifted off her shoulders, knowing that she didn’t have to do this alone. She felt like she’d been guessing at what to do ever since Jake had died.

Lexa put a hand to Clarke’s back. “Raven and Dax are here to help you two learn.” Her voice was gentle, attempting to put Clarke more at ease. “And to help you heal. As am I, Clarke.”

Clarke nodded, taking a deep breath. “Okay.”

“Come on Clarke, Skaiprisa,” Raven broke in. “Let’s go somewhere and talk.” Dax knelt to make it easier for his Rider to mount up. Clarke scrambled onto Skaiprisa. “I’ll bring her back this evening, Heda,” Raven promised. “She’ll be all yours.”

Lexa patted Skaiprisa’s snout and backed away. “I am entrusting you with her, Raven Reyes,” she said solemnly.

“Give me some credit, Heda,” Raven teased. “I was a fully vested Rider when you were toddling around being doted on as the only Elven child of the generation.”

Clarke watched, fascinated, as Lexa’s cheeks turned slightly red and she rolled her eyes at Raven’s playful mocking. She hadn’t seen anyone dare to tease Lexa – they were all too busy being in awe of her. She was the mysterious Elf who volunteered to carry a dragon egg across the expanse of Alagaesia not one time, but twice a year. And not only that but did it successfully for twenty years before being captured and withstanding a Shade’s torture for months only to come out of it and get right back to the business of rebellion. Forget herself being some kind of hero – Heda Lexa was a legend.

“I’ll bring her back in one piece, Lexa.” Clarke tuned back into the conversation just in time for Lexa to nod at Raven’s promise and abruptly turn and march back into Polis center.

Skaiprisa soared into flight as soon as Dax took off. Clarke could feel Prisa’s excitement running through their bond – the complete and utter delight the dragon felt at having another of her kind living in the world. _We aren’t alone as we once thought, Klark! Do you know what this means?_

 _I suppose we will find out._ Clarke was as excited and relieved as Skaiprisa at the discovery of another Rider, but now that she’d a moment to think, doubt was setting in. There was the minor concern that she would be a disappointment after a century of Raven and Dax waiting for a new Rider to be chosen, but more pressing was the upcoming ‘talk’ Raven had mentioned. Clarke worried that Raven would expect her to be some kind of clean slate, ready and willing to absorb learning from the older Rider. In a way, she was – she desperately wanted to learn about being a Rider from an experienced one – but she was no empty canvas. She had rips and stains and felt more like a wrung out muddy rag than anything else. She carried the deaths of a thousand people on her back, and nothing said today would wash that out.

Skaiprisa, despite their mental link still not being entirely open, guessed the direction of Clarke’s thoughts. _If anyone can understand what you feel,_ the dragon said gently, _it will be this Rider. She was forced to watch her comrades fall, unable to help. She will know better than anyone what it is like to be as lost as I feel you are, little one._

Clarke sighed. _Right as always, Prisa,_ she conceded wryly. The two flew in silence with the other Rider pair until they reached a large outcropping in a mountain that had obviously been turned into a home suitable for both person and dragon.

“Make yourself at home.” Raven waved them in once the dragons had landed. “This is where Dax and I spend most of our time these days. Gives us the privacy we desire, and even after a hundred years, it’s still difficult sometimes being around some of the Trikru. Particularly Titus.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s an uptight fellow.”

Clarke followed Raven to a table and sat. “I gathered that,” she agreed dryly.

“Not the easiest guy to get along with. I think the only person he _tries_ to get along with is Lexa. But,” Raven clapped her hands together, “you’re not here to talk about an old Elf set in his ways. So, Clarke. What do you want to talk about first?”

The younger Rider took a deep breath. “Well, I suppose I have an easy question first. You said you were expecting us like you knew who Prisa and I were. How?”

“The simple answer for some of that is Lexa sent a messenger when you all reached Mount Weather,” Raven grinned and Clarke blushed. Of course Lexa would have informed her people of her rescue and the arrival of a new Dragokru. “However, I’ve also been able to look in on you both from time to time. And I knew to because Dax and I sensed Skaiprisa hatching.”

“How?”

“Do you remember the first time you and Skaiprisa touched? Did you hear or feel anything?” Raven prompted.

“You mean besides the burning pain?” Clarke grumbled.

 _Klark_ , Skaiprisa reprimanded gently.

“Sorry,” Clarke sighed. “Um – someone yelled, maybe? Sounded really angry. And,” she thought back, trying to remember, “the sounds of a forge, I think?”

Raven nodded, smiling. “All Riders can feel when a new Rider is chosen. I was the blacksmith that you heard, working in my forge that night. And the scream? That was Thelonius.”

“The king’s known about me this whole time?!” Clarke yelled, aghast. “I never had a chance of hiding from him?”

“The world was always going to find out that there was a new Rider for the first time in a century, Clarke. It was only a matter of time. But yes, Thelonius knew. He didn’t know right where you were, but elder Riders can learn to sense where their compatriots are if they aren’t cloaking themselves.”

Clarke stared at Raven, her mouth hanging slightly open in disbelief. “Are you saying –” She swallowed roughly. “You’re saying that you _knew_ where I was – where _we_ were – and you did _nothing_? You just let him send monsters after us, and you could’ve come for us, warned me. Done _anything_. But you didn’t.”

Raven sighed. “It wasn’t that simple, Clarke. By some stroke of luck, Jake – who you’ll remember was a Rider himself, dragon or not – lived in the same village as you. And if Thelonius knew that there was an experienced Rider still alive from the Slaughter of Ton DC, if I’d revealed myself, he would have stopped at nothing to tear this forest apart and kill me, Dax, and then you two. He would have come after you much sooner than he did. It was for the best.”

“The _best_?!” Clarke yelled. “Ever since Prisa hatched, everyone’s been making decisions about what’s _best_ for me without my say! Jake hid the fact that he was a Rider until he was _dying_ , and didn’t even bother to tell me that someday I’d have to go to the Maunon and then Polis per an agreement made before I was born. Anya hid the fact that she was the child of a Rider, and now she’s dead. And you?” Clarke scoffed. “You left me alone. You let that demon send Reapers to my _home_ , and now my aunt is dead and my cousin probably hates me because you did _nothing_!” She stormed over to her dragon and slung herself into the saddle. “Let’s go, Prisa.”

 _No_.

“’ _No’_?” Clarke fumed.

 _We need to be here, Klark. No matter how angry you are now, we need Reivon’s help little one,_ the dragon attempted to soothe her Rider.

“So now you’re making the decisions too, huh?” Clarke said bitterly. “Fine. Once again, I don’t have a say in my own life. Guess I should have seen that coming.” She dismounted Skaiprisa and headed for the narrow path that led back down the mountain.

“Where are you going, Clarke?” Raven asked calmly.

Clarke didn’t bother looking back at the other Rider. “To find the one person who’s ever given me a choice in this whole mess,” she snapped.

* * *

_Klark, turn west_ , Lexa’s voice rang suddenly in Clarke’s mind. She’d shut Skaiprisa out when she had left Raven’s cave and was trying to ignore everything but her current objective of find Lexa. She immediately turned and started walking away from the sun and Polis, heading deeper into the woods.

 _Head north for half a mile. There is a small watch post. I shall await you there,_ Lexa instructed a few minutes later. Clarke obeyed.

Anger and hurt swirled through her in equal portions. Clarke didn’t know how she felt half the time anymore. Everything was a mess inside her head. Not in control – that was how she felt. Not in control of her emotions, of her life, of her choices. It was like she was just along for the ride in her own life.

“Clarke,” Lexa’s quiet call interrupted the girl’s spiral. “I can feel your turmoil. What has happened?”

“Raven – I – she –” Clarke stuttered to a halt. She took a second to try and organize her thoughts. “I didn’t ask for any of this, Lexa,” she finally came up with. “This wasn’t meant to happen to me. I was supposed to live on a farm for the rest of my life, taking over for my aunt when she died. Octavia was the one with the dreams, and hers didn’t even go past learning to be a blacksmith instead of a farmer and marrying the smith’s son. I didn’t have lofty goals, and now I’m supposed to be some last hope of killing a king.” Panic was building up inside Clarke, her breath quickening and growing shallow. “I yelled at Raven. Gods, she’s never going to want to teach me anything now. And she’s the only one who can tell me what I need to know. Everything is so _joken_ awful, _jok!_ I don’t know what to do,” she gasped, breathing out of control.

“ _Klark, Klark. Sen ai op_ _(Listen to me),_ ” Lexa interrupted, speaking calmly. “ _Inha lagen (Breathe slowly)._ ”

Working to translate the still foreign words distracted Clarke, allowing her to follow Lexa’s instructions. Her breathing gradually slowed as she inhaled in time with Lexa. The lightheadedness she’d been feeling faded away in increments, leaving her tired instead of on the verge of fainting. She sank into Lexa’s chest, letting the woman hold up most of her weight. “I feel so lost,” she eventually muttered.

“That will fade with time, Clarke,” Lexa reassured her. “Just keep breathing with me, for the moment. Where is Skaiprisa?”

Clarke took another deep breath, though it hitched at the mention of her dragon. “She wouldn’t let me leave when I got angry. And then I was angry at _her_. I’m just so – _furious_ , all the time, and when I’m not, I feel like I can’t feel anything. I’m supposed to feel something, aren’t I?” she asked, bewildered. “How can you do what I did to all those innocent people and not feel anything? What’s _wrong_ with me?!”

She didn’t even notice the tears streaking down her cheeks until Lexa reached up to wipe them away gently. “What happened to you was traumatic, Clarke,” she murmured. “The aftermath, it does not leave you unscathed. You have been protecting yourself from your emotions and everyone else, including Skaiprisa. You’ve been blocking Prisa out of your mind.” When Clarke went to deny it, Lexa shook her head and interrupted. “Do not try to tell me you haven’t. Now, I do not wish to frighten you more than you have been the last weeks and months, but you _must_ reopen that bond. Fully. A Rider and dragon cannot maintain separate minds and survive. Do you understand? And Skaiprisa can help you heal in ways that I am not capable of. She knows you best out of everyone in the world, Clarke. Trust me, trust your _dragon_ , and let her help you.”

Clarke swallowed hard before her face crumpled into a sob, her legs giving out from under her. Lexa caught her in a strong grip, lowering her to the ground before tugging Clarke to lean back against her torso. “Lexa,” she whimpered.

“ _Shusha, Klark_ ,” Lexa soothed, running a hand through her hair. “You will be alright.” She held Clarke through her tears, murmuring soft _Trigedasleng_ the entire time.

 _Prisa?_ Clarke choked out the mental call as she finally, finally, opened up their bond all the way for the first time since the battle at the Mountain.

 _Klark!_ Skaiprisa shouted, frantic. _Where are you?!_

 _Northwest of town. There’s – a tower._ She sent a picture to her dragon.

 _I am on my way_ , Skaiprisa promised. _Are you hurt, little one?_

Clarke burrowed closer into Lexa’s chest, sighing in relief at the contact. _No more than usual,_ she answered. _Please just come._

The dragon landed heavily less than a minute later, her usual care and finesse lost in her worry for her Rider. Skaiprisa had been blindsided by the painful emotions running through Clarke’s head when their link had at last been re-forged. The dragon was left reeling, and had immediately taken off in search of her charge. Skaiprisa couldn’t understand how Clarke had been able to hide so much pain when they were supposed to share everything with each other, but she pushed it aside in favor of finding the young Rider and renewing their bond. _I am here, Klark_. She’d landed as close to the sitting pair as she could, not altogether surprised to find that Clarke had sought out Lexa. Skaiprisa didn’t quite understand the relationship between her Rider and the Elf, but it was different than the friendship Clarke shared with Monty or even the close bond she’d had with Anya. Whatever it was, the Carrier was protective of Clarke, and Skaiprisa could appreciate that.

“Prisa,” Clarke whimpered, those little drops of water called ‘tears’ still dripped down her cheeks.

 _I am sorry, little one,_ she said mournfully, nudging her Rider with her nose. Clarke latched on, wrapping her arms as far as they could around her dragon’s jaw and holding tight. Skaiprisa let her stay there as long as she needed, blowing warm, soothing air into Clarke’s body.

None of them spoke for over an hour as Clarke let out all the sorrow that had been building in her since the battle at the Mountain. Lexa had seen her anger, and knew that only after Clarke had mourned what she’d lost would she be able to move on to healing. It had taken weeks, but finally, Clarke was letting go of the innocent girl inside of herself that she would never get back.

Eventually, Clarke cried herself out, still leaning wearily against her dragon. Lexa continued to wait patiently for the younger woman to break the silence. It took a little bit longer, but Clarke slowly detangled herself from Skaiprisa to go back to Lexa. Lexa immediately reached out to support her. “Thank you,” Clarke whispered.

“Whatever you need, Clarke,” Lexa replied. “Thank you for trusting me with your pain. But what brought this on so suddenly?”

“Raven,” Clarke muttered. “She said she knew the whole time – where I was. Guess it’s some Rider thing. And Thelonius knew, and Raven didn’t _do_ anything to save me. My entire life fell to pieces, and I wanted someone to blame.”

Understanding filled Lexa. “I am sorry, Clarke. You weren’t meant to do this alone. I should have been present when Skaiprisa hatched, as was my duty. My last obligation, in a perfect world, was to escort the new Rider and their dragon to Polis, where Jake would have been waiting to begin their instruction. You weren’t even supposed to find the egg. I meant to send her to Jake,” she said ruefully.

Oddly, learning that there had been a plan in place to give her the support she needed soothed Clarke. Even if mistakes had been made, they hadn’t meant to leave her on her own the way they did. And Jake had found her – was with her – despite all the odds. “Did you know?” Clarke asked suddenly.

“Did I know what?”

“Raven said that Jake was living in Arkadia by some stroke of luck. The first dragon to hatch in over a century and the man chosen for the new Rider’s initial training just so happens to live there? That’s too fortuitous. Jake had to have chosen Arkadia for a reason. Do you know it?” Her voice was desperate.

Lexa hesitated. “Yes,” she said finally. “I do know why Jake chose Arkadia. And I _will_ tell you,” she promised. “But can you trust me to know when you are well enough to hear it? Will you trust me with that?”

Clarke bit her lip. This was a choice – Lexa, yet again, was giving her a choice. Eventually, she nodded. “I trust you.”

A strong hand gripped her arm. “Thank you, Clarke. Your soul is recovering, and in time, you will be ready for what I have to say. I swear it.” Lexa brought her hands up to Clarke’s face, tilting it down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “You are tired. Do you wish to return to your dwelling and rest?”

“I think – I think I need to see Raven. Apologize for the way I acted,” Clarke admitted. “None of this was her fault.”

“It was not yours either, Clarke,” Lexa reminded her gently. “Remember that. You are hurting, and you lashed out. I am honestly surprised you didn’t sooner.”

Clarke let out a tiny chuckle, shocking and secretly delighting Lexa. She hadn’t heard that sound since a few nights before the battle, when she’d managed to surprise Clarke with her dry humor, making her fall into laughter. She’d begun to think she would never hear it again. “I feel better,” Clarke said, turning thoughtful. “A lot better than one crying bout should have made me. More – centered?”

“You bonded with Skaiprisa again.” Lexa smiled. “It was hurting both of you to stay closed off from one another. If you had put it off much longer, I would have had to request that Skaiprisa break through your mental barriers, for the sake of both your lives. Remember Clarke, your greatest strength is your bond to Skaiprisa. The support you give each other is something not I, nor anyone else can replace. You need each other, both physically and mentally, to survive this coming war. Don’t forget that.”

Clarke smiled fondly up at her dragon, rubbing the scales of her nose as Skaiprisa hummed, content in the knowledge that her Rider was on the mend at last. “I won’t, Lex,” she promised.


	17. Chapter 16

Slowly but surely, Clarke made progress both physically and emotionally over the next month, and Lexa followed it all with a sense of satisfaction. Her connection with Skaiprisa remained fully open, and the dragon and Rider were closer than ever. Clarke was also growing more comfortable holding Azswis once again, managing to train with Lexa for the first time since Mount Weather the week before. What she remained stagnant in, however, was in using Trigedasleng. Clarke absolutely refused to speak the language, much to the short tempered Raven’s frustration. It appeared she’d met her match in obstinacy with the younger Rider, and Lexa didn’t know how to help them get past Clarke’s block.

It seemed she would have to call in reinforcements if the two Riders couldn’t come to some agreement about Clarke’s training soon.

* * *

“Clarke, if you refuse to utilize half of your abilities, we might as well give up this war before it starts,” Raven growled after yet another afternoon of the younger Rider stubbornly keeping herself from using Trigedasleng in any way.

Clarke huffed and leaned back against Skaiprisa. “I have worked, and trained, and compromised on literally everything else,” she shot back. “I didn’t want to pick up my sword again either, but I’m training with Lexa, because that at least requires my skill. My bond with Prisa is open both ways again. I meditate, Prisa learns with Dax, we practice flying maneuvers and Lexa is tutoring me in battle strategy. This is the one thing I can’t do, Raven. Please stop asking me to.” Her angry tone faded to almost begging at the end. “Don’t ask me to kill people with my words.”

Raven sighed. “That is not all Trigedasleng is, Clarke, and you know it.”

“The first time I used it was on accident, and I lit two Urgals on fire. I burned them alive. Every new word I’ve learned, the first thing that comes to my head is a way it could be used to hurt others,” she retorted.

“Clarke –”

“Do you think I don’t see the looks I get in the city? Or hear the whispers?” Clarke interrupted. “The Trikru are calling me _Wanheda_ , Raven. The Commander of Death. That isn’t what I want to be known as for the rest of my probably short life.”

“I understand that you are still hurting Clarke, and I’m not trying to demean that or make it seem lesser than it is,” Raven soothed the teenager. “And my hope is that you and Skaiprisa will have long lives after this is over. I don’t intend for you two to become martyrs, and I know Lexa doesn’t want that either.”

Clarke groaned in frustration, burying her face in her hands as Skaiprisa nudged her shoulder. “I know, I know.”

The last two Riders sat in silence for a few minutes before Raven hauled herself to her feet while holding onto Dax’s nose for support. “We’ll continue practicing flight maneuvers tomorrow morning. And I want you to meditate before you go to sleep tonight. Let me know if it helps with your nightmares. If it does not, we’ll see if Skaiprisa can learn to shield your mind while you’re asleep. I know it was done in the past.”

“Alright.”

* * *

Lexa was waiting for Clarke and Skaiprisa when they landed on the ground below Raven’s cliffside cave. “How was it today?” she asked.

Clarke shrugged. “Raven’s still getting after me for not wanting to use Trigedasleng. She doesn’t understand how hard it is for me.”

“After waiting a hundred years for a new Rider, Raven can be – impatient,” Lexa agreed slowly. “But know that she is only trying to protect and prepare you, Clarke.” Clarke hung her head, so the Commander took a different tact. “Abby has returned to Polis for the first time in twenty years,” she said.

“Really? Why?”

“I requested her assistance. Mount Weather has been evacuated to the south where the Grounder dwarves have another stronghold. Thelonious has a large army, but it is more difficult to drive men across the desert and against the Sankru than Urgals and Reapers. Our spies estimate that Thelonious lost three quarters of his Urgal soldiers at Mount Weather, and the loss of Cage means no more Reapers,” Lexa explained. “Fighting humans is both easier and more difficult. Some only fight for Thelonious because they are being blackmailed – he holds their families hostage in some undisclosed location. Others fear the Trikru more than a tyrant king because we are different. Many simply hope to gain power.”

 _So what is the Egg Destroyer’s strategy then?_ Skaiprisa asked the question Clarke was thinking.

“We believe he will make a move on Polis soon. Within the next month, possibly. I requested that Abby come to Polis instead of following the Maunon south. She has never officially been a part of the rebellion, so neither Wells nor I can command her, but she has always played an important part in our strategy, and she is on her way here as we speak.”

Clarke nodded. “Good.”

“Abby often sets up a healing station when she’s called to the rebellion,” Lexa mentioned. “I would like you to observe her when she gets here. It will most likely be only minor injuries from sparring practice at first, but if we begin to have skirmishes with Thelonious’ army, there will be more serious wounds.”

The Rider narrowed her eyes. “And what will I be observing?”

“You’ve had a bad experience with your power,” Lexa said bluntly. “Abby is the strongest user of Trigedasleng in living memory. Stronger than many Riders from before the Fall. I want you to see it used for healing. Perhaps learning a different purpose will help you overcome your aversion to using your ability.”

* * *

“Again, Clarke!” Lexa commanded, whirling her double swords in her hands.

Clarke growled and scrambled back to her feet. Her and the Commander’s sword training had taken a turn towards the aggressive, and though she could tell she was getting better, it seemed to Clarke that for every bit of progress she made, Lexa just upped her skill level and pushed even harder. She launched herself into an attack that was swiftly blocked by Lexa’s crossed swords. Clarke immediately twisted away, freeing up her blade and slashing at Lexa’s back. Lexa moved one sword over her shoulder and behind herself to block Clarke’s attack, and the other in a jab at Clarke’s chest. The Rider ducked and kicked out at Lexa’s ankles, managing to trip her up.

Lexa fell to the ground with a huff but hung onto her swords. Clarke tried to take advantage of the rare opportunity, but Lexa blocked her and utilized a kick of her own aimed at Clarke’s knee. Clarke yelped as her knee twisted awkwardly and stumbled. Lexa leapt to her feet and brought her sword to Clarke’s neck. “Dead,” she pronounced, panting slightly. “Well done, Clarke.”

Clarke was breathing harder but allowed herself a smile. That was the closest she’d come yet to defeating Lexa in a duel and even though she’d lost, she was still proud of herself.

 _I still say it would be easier if you two legged folk just grew talons and fangs,_ Skaiprisa said from where she was observing, _but for using makeshift claws, that was a good fight._

 _Thanks Prisa,_ Clarke grinned at her dragon.

“We are done for the day,” Lexa decided. “You have improved a great amount in a short time Clarke,” she praised the Rider. “I have not lost a fight in nearly a century, and today was the closest I have come to defeat in decades.” The two sheathed their swords, and Lexa led the way out of the arena.

“Well, I learned from the best,” Clarke deflected, trying not to blush. She still thought about their kiss often, and any praise from Lexa still flustered her.

The Commander had made a habit of staying with Clarke for the evening meal since their emotional evening in the woods the month before, much to Titus’ everlasting dismay. Despite being the Rider the whole realm had been searching for for years, Clarke’s presence seemed to cause the old Elf quite a bit of unrest and he always lurked whenever Clarke and Lexa were in the hall where both the _Heda_ and _Fleimkepa_ resided.

For the moment, they made their way to the house in the tree Clarke and Skaiprisa had been living in, the dragon leaping into the air to meet them at the top. Clarke and Lexa took the slower path up the winding stairs. “So, when do I start with Abby?” Clarke asked. The shop owner/witch healer/foreseer had arrived in Polis the night before, much to the delight of the general population of the city, who seemed very fond of the mysterious woman.

“Tomorrow morning,” Lexa answered as they reached the living area of Clarke’s quarters. “And remember, I want you to merely observe. Neither Raven nor I am expecting you to become adept at healing along with all your other duties and training here. We only wish you to keep an open mind and see another way for Trigedasleng to be used – for the good of others, not just ill. If you desire to learn more from Abby, that is up to you. It is your choice, Clarke,” she emphasized.

Clarke appreciated the thought, even if it was such a small decision that was being left up to her. Nyko had taught her as much as he could of practical healing before she’d had to give up her apprenticeship to move back to her aunt’s farm, and she found herself missing those quiet days of dealing with farming accidents and sick children with the big, gentle man by her side. Jake hadn’t been an expert in the ways of healing with Trigedasleng, and her one experience of using it herself wasn’t enough to save him. The opportunity to learn more and maybe keep herself from losing anyone else was appealing despite her fear of the powerful language. For the first time since Jake died, Clarke was looking forward to a lesson in Trigedasleng.

* * *

_We meet again, Dragon Rider,_ a voice greeted Clarke as she entered Abby’s quarters the next morning.

Clarke smiled. “Hello, Jackson.” She knelt to give the werecat a pet, making him purr. “How was the journey?”

 _Boring,_ the cat sniffed.

“Come now, Jackson,” Abby said, coming out of a back room with a basket of supplies in her arms. “If my company was all bad, you would have left me decades ago.”

Jackson leapt onto a table, nose and tail in the air. _The destinations are worth it, Abigail,_ he admitted, _even if the travel is dull and dirty_. _Have you thought on what I said, Clarke?_

It took Clarke a minute to recognize what the cat was talking about, and then only because Skaiprisa sent her a reminder of what Jackson had told her in secret all that time ago in Floudon when they were staying with Kane. “I don’t know where the Tree of Keryon Teina or the Rock of Soncha are,” she confessed. “And I thought I’d lost everything, but I don’t think all is lost quite yet.”

 _Good. Answers may be closer than you think, Dragon Rider,_ the werecat said mysteriously.

Clarke hesitated. “Alright?” She shrugged at Skaiprisa, not entirely sure once again what to make of Jackson’s words. She didn’t even know what questions she should be seeking the answers to. She had Azswis – was that what Jackson meant by finding a weapon? Or was it something more powerful? Maybe she would just ask Lexa later.

“How have you been, Clarke?” Abby asked gently, distracting Clarke from the werecat.

“You know,” Clarke shrugged, “it’s been a rough year. Dragon hatched in my bedroom, got attacked by monsters, lost my aunt, my mentor, my best friend, killed about a thousand people, had a Shade’s soul try to take over mine. Small stuff,” she said sarcastically.

Abby gazed at her with pained eyes. “I was sorry to hear about Jake,” she apologized. “There wasn’t time to give you my condolences before the battle at Mount Weather.”

Clarke sighed. “Yeah, well. Not like you didn’t foresee it or anything, right? Little off on the fortune though, seeing as I lost more than one person. Thought the bones were never wrong?”

“They are not,” Abby replied stiffly. “Only their interpretation. What was foretold is not always clear. The bones may not have been referring to either Jake or your friend, Anya.”

The Rider nodded, now wishing she hadn’t been as honest in her speech. Things were straying too far into painful territory and she searched desperately for a change in subject. “The Commander and Raven said I am to learn healing from you,” she hit on a new topic, and the reason she was there. “They think it will help me get over my block on Trigedasleng.”

“Yes, I spoke with Lexa about it earlier today.” Abby accepted Clarke’s deflection easily. “Polis scouts have reported a battalion of Thelonious’ men approaching the city’s borders. They should reach the barrier in seven days. A portion of the _Heda’s_ army will confront them before they reach that barrier. I will teach you all I can in the time that we have, but after that, there will be casualties. If you are not on the battlefield, I will expect you to be here with me, learning and assisting where necessary. Do you understand?”

Clarke nodded, swallowing hard. She had a week to get over her fear – nothing like a bit of pressure.

“Good.” Abby nodded once. “Now, tell me what you know of the art of healing.”

“Uh, well – I was the apprentice to our village healer back home in Arkadia.”

Abby interrupted. “Yes, I remember the contents of your pack. If you knew what all those medicines were for, you were trained well in mundane healing, though there is some I could still teach you in that arena. But I need to know what you were taught of using Trigedasleng to heal. From Jake, Lexa, or Raven.” The hedge witch turned to go through some bottles of various liquids, gesturing at Clarke to talk while she worked.

Clarke hesitated. “Um, nothing?”

The older woman paused in her search, looking at Clarke incredulously. “You have learned not even the basics?”

“Beyond some words Jake gave me to memorize, no.”

“Yes, he was never much the healer,” Abby murmured. “Always relying on me, the old floater. Well that makes finding a starting point very simple, young one. We shall begin from the beginning. What words did Jake have you learn?”

“ _Blida (bleeder), laks (wound), fis op (heal),_ and _hakenes (illness)_ ,” Clarke recited. “That was it. When – when Jake was knifed, I tried to help him. _Laks, fis op_. I thought if I tried and hoped hard enough, the words would know what I meant.”

Abby considered it. “Crude, but effective for surface wounds. Internal injuries like Jake had would have required more delicacy. Information you didn’t have at the time. But you can learn and save someone else. Will you let me teach you?”

Clarke hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Please.”

* * *

Attacks on the barrier around Polis began in earnest eight days later. Lexa insisted on Clarke and Skaiprisa staying away from the battlefield for the time being, the Elven army more than enough to repel Thelonius’ inferior human forces at their current numbers. Instead, Clarke spent most of her time with Abby at the army’s encampment learning and helping where she could.

Clarke was also spending more time with Raven and Dax, trying to settle their differences after a rough start. Despite being over a century older, Raven didn’t act superior to Clarke in any way. Clarke even found herself enjoying Raven’s company while their dragons were off doing other things.

“You would like my cousin,” Clarke mentioned one sunny afternoon a week after the assault had begun. “She was training to be a blacksmith before everything went to hell. Octavia never did have the patience for farming.”

“And you?” Raven asked.

Clarke smiled, lost in memory. “I’d always wished I had been able to learn more healing from Nyko, but I was happy to be on that farm for the rest of my life. After Prisa hatched, it was just going to be me and her once my aunt passed.”

“I was brought before Dax’s egg when I was seven years old,” Raven said. “I hardly knew what was happening, but all I could look at was this jet black egg resting on the pedestal. It was like he was calling to me, even unborn.”

“I felt that from Prisa,” Clarke agreed. “Couldn’t leave her behind, even though she exploded out of nowhere and almost killed me.”

Raven laughed, but sobered quickly. “I was one of the last Riders chosen by a dragon before the Slaughter. I was fifty when Thelonius and his followers attacked our stronghold. We never expected it, and perhaps that surety was our downfall. Dax and I were barely acknowledged as fully fledged Dragon and Rider partners, and we watched our mentors cut down in front of us. Then Skaiprisa fell to Nia, and Jake went insane, blasting two of the Forsworn before he disappeared. I took a sword to the back not long after, and Dax was injured protecting me on the ground. He got me onto his back and managed to fly us to a small Elven village not too far away before he collapsed. By the time we woke up, everyone was gone. It wasn’t until Jake showed up a decade later that anyone realized he’d even survived.”

“I’m sorry.” It felt inadequate, but Clarke couldn’t find any other words for how she felt.

“I have had a century to come to terms with it. There is no use dwelling on the past.” Raven stoked the fire and adjusted the food she was preparing over the flame. She leaned back with a sigh, rubbing her injured leg. “I’m a blacksmith at heart, just as you are a healer. Becoming a Rider wasn’t something I aimed for, and you even less so, given the circumstances. But perhaps that is part of why we were chosen – we did not seek it.

“You are not alone in this, Clarke. Remember that. If nothing else, Lexa is determined to push you through to the end.” The older Rider winked, making Clarke blush furiously. “But for the moment, I think we can be done with the introspection.” Raven squinted at the horizon. “And here come Dax and Prisa, right on time. You two are released from your studies for the rest of the day, although I do believe you will find Abby searching for you when you get down.”

Clarke frowned. She’d already spent the entire morning and early afternoon with Abby at the healers, helping with using the new phrases Abby had taught her. “What for?”

“You’ll see. Now, go on. Places for you to be,” Raven said mysteriously, making Clarke’s frown deepen. She’d grown to respect the strange healer, but sometimes Abby’s actions still caught her off guard. Like the way she just seemed to know things about Clarke, even though they’d really only interacted twice before Polis and one of those times Clarke was unconscious.

“Alright.” Clarke clambered onto Skaiprisa’s back and they took off, flying over the forest for while to have some time for themselves. _What do you think Abby wants, Prisa?_

 _The healer never gives anything away,_ Skaiprisa answered, sounding perplexed. _She and the Carrier seem to have a history. When Abby healed you after you killed the Shade, they argued about something. I did not truly understand what about – a child was mentioned, but I was so focused on you that I missed most of their argument. Many things were left unsaid._

Clarke hummed at that. Despite the differences in appearance, she was pretty sure Lexa and Abby were similar in age. “Well, I suppose we’d better go see what she wants.” The dragon banked, dropping through a clearing in the trees to land gently outside the healer’s.

“Clarke, Skaiprisa,” Abby greeted them as Clarke slid out of the saddle.

“ _Hei_ , Abby. Raven said you wanted to see me.”

“Yes.” Abby actually gripped her hands nervously, her mannerism worrying the teen. “I know that this is going to be a bit unexpected, but now that we are better acquainted, I need to ask. Did your aunt ever say anything about your birth parents?”

Clarke glanced at Skaiprisa, confused by the line of questioning. “Um, not a lot. That my mother was her sister, and I just – showed up on her and my uncle’s doorstep one night in the middle of winter with a note saying I was her niece. Nothing about my father.”

Abby nodded, looking everywhere except at Clarke. “And you’re older than your cousin?”

“By about six months, my aunt said,” Clarke confirmed.

“Almost eighteen years old,” Abby murmured. “It was a difficult one, the year you were born. A sickness in the early year, wiping out small towns and swathes of people in large cities. A drought in the north and famine in the south. Thelonius was still furious at having lost one of the two remaining dragon eggs in existence, and he took that out on all of his subjects. That’s how I met Jake – did you know that?” Clarke shook her head. “I knew of him, of course. As much as they act superior, Elves are subject to the same foibles as man, and many gossip just the same. I’d heard all about the Rider without his dragon who was friend to Polis and the only other human welcome there. But we’d never crossed paths until I found him and Kane and their precious cargo, deep in Thelonius’ territory. I hid them, and later got them out. Kane returned to Floudon, and I went with Jake to Polis to deliver Skaiprisa’s egg to _Heda_.”

Abby took a deep breath. “Two years later, when you were born, people came after you. I don’t know how they learned about you, but with parents like yours, you were going to be in danger your whole life. When you were six months old, I decided the only place you would be safe was with Aurora. So I begged Jake to take you to her, and without a Rider to train, he stayed to watch over you.”

Clarke was frozen in place, mind whirling. Was Abby implying–? “W-what are you saying?” she asked warily. Abby couldn’t possibly mean what Clarke was inferring.

The healer smiled, her lips trembling. “You are so beautiful,” she whispered, “and so much like your father. I missed you every day.”

“But you – you’re – and Aurora, she,” Clarke stumbled, trying to get her mind wrapped around what Abby was telling her.

“Aurora wasn’t truly your aunt. Her grandmother was,” Abby explained. “I have lived for a century, tied to the land so deeply. I imagine someday I will rest, but the world doesn’t seem to want to let me go yet.”

Clarke felt like she was staving off a panic attack, even with Skaiprisa trilling to her comfortingly in the back of her mind. She could feel the dragon’s amazement at Abby’s revelation, but Skaiprisa was more focused on her Rider for the moment. _Calm, Klark,_ she soothed gently. _Remember calm. Breathe how the Carrier taught you._ Clarke obeyed her dragon, taking deep breaths and holding before letting them out slowly. She did it five times before she felt able to speak again. She scrubbed at a rogue tear on her cheek before looking at Abby – her mother? – again. “So you are my – mother. And you – _jok_. Did Lexa know?”

“She guessed your parentage after the battle at Mount Weather,” Abby confirmed.

“Lexa said there was a reason Jake stayed at Arkadia. He stayed to look after me? To keep me safe?”

“Yes.”

“And you sent me away to keep me safe.”

It wasn’t a question, but Abby nodded anyway. “You were an infant – innocent. We would have done anything to keep you safe.”

“And my father –”

“ _Wanheda_!” a man yelled as he approached them at a run. “Rider Clarke! You are needed at the barrier! _Heda_ requires your presence immediately.”

“What’s happened?” you ask quickly, scrambling for your saddle at the same time.

The man’s eyes are wide with hidden fear. “Another _Dragokru_ has just arrived. Wearing the king’s colors.”


End file.
